Seeking Arcadia
by kytheria
Summary: She was a weary 29 year old with a husband she adored, a career that drove her, and a heart that had once been shattered into a thousand pieces by a love from which she had never quite recovered. In other words, she was a perfectly normal woman. HxV
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: ** Many thanks to Yahnkehy for the beta work on this story!_

Hitomi Espinoza, née Kanzaki, shoved her carry-on into the small compartment and dropped into the seat with a sigh. This would be her fourth transpacific flight in as many weeks and all she wanted was a good meal, an uninterrupted nights sleep, and a long, hot shower to rinse away the dirt from the latest archaeological dig. It had been days since she'd had either, and the cold water sponge baths she'd had in her tent at the dig site had left her presentable but unsatisfied. There hadn't been time for anything more however, if she wanted to meet up with Jason before heading out to yet another site.

Thinking of her husband brought a soft smile to her weary face. They'd only been married a year and a half, and the time they had spent together, or even on the same continent, since their wedding equaled less than six months, but as unconventional as their marriage was, it suited them both. Their respective archaeological careers had taken precedence and kept them apart much of the time. He worked in America, unearthing the secrets of the Anasazi in northern Arizona, and she, with her expertise in mythological sites, crossed the globe, seeking the likes of Avalon, Lyonesse, Ys, Troy, Lemuria, Mu, and Atlantis. Tomorrow she was off again, to Morocco this time, to investigate Majuán Bank as yet another possible Atlantean site, but tonight she hoped to spend in her husband's arms. Granted, it would probably be on a rickety cot in a hastily assembled tent, and it guaranteed that her longed-for night of sleep would have to wait, but she considered it a more than fair trade off.

She buckled herself in for takeoff and closed her eyes, picturing Jason's floppy dark hair that perpetually fell into his laughing brown eyes. Even his ever present Indiana Jones hat- "I can't be a proper archaeologist without it," he had joked when she raised an eyebrow at it- did little to tame the locks he never remembered to cut. Her mind's eye roamed over sharp cheekbones, smudged with the red clay that she had come to associate with him, full lips that were usually parted in a grin, slightly crooked teeth that flashed winningly at her whenever they were reunited. She cherished the warm glow that thoughts of him brought, and pushed the vague sense of guilt to the back of her mind.

No one understood how it was that she and Jason could live the way they were. There were times when Hitomi couldn't understand either. How could he be happy with a wife that put her selfish desires before their marriage? Couldn't he see what she was doing? Did he suspect her laughing protests when he brought up children masked an uneasiness that she herself wouldn't admit to having? If so, he never mentioned it, just watched her quietly with those warm, expressive eyes...

_so like Van's eyes... isn't that why she noticed them to begin with_?

...before smiling widely and agreeing with her, it was too soon, and changing the subject. Dear Jason. He was as dependable as the sunrise, and Hitomi loved him for it. He let her work as hard as she wanted, chasing myths and history across the globe without a second though, satisfied to see her when and where he could. She owed him more; she knew it, even if she was unable to follow through.

The sign above the plane door switched off, and the flight attendants made their way down the aisles with their metal trays, expertly applied makeup, and perfectly coiffed hair. Hitomi felt grimy and small as she accepted a warm Sprite and a small plastic cup of ice. She poured the soda and turned her attention to the clouds floating outside. She tilted her head so it rested against the small window and wondered what it would be like to soar through them again. She had, once, years ago and a world away, and it was her greatest secret. Hitomi Espinoza, acknowledged expert on the ancient mythological civilization of Atlantis, knew far more about the city and its inhabitants than she would ever want to, or be able to, tell.

As usual when her mind wasn't occupied with work, her thoughts drifted to the young boy-king who had stolen, and then broken her heart. Hitomi didn't blame him anymore for the way their lives had turned out. The truth was, fifteen was too young to make the type of commitment that a long-distance relationship required. Even eighteen, when they had their falling out over Hitomi's unwillingness to leave her world, had been too young when it came down to it. It had taken her years to come to terms with the fact that loving someone was not all that was necessary for a successful relationship, and a failed relationship didn't mean that one did not not love their partner enough. Those beliefs were so perpetuated by her friends and family that she had been afraid to move forward with any romantic relationship, scared to death of it failing and being judged once more as not quite good enough.

Only Yukari had known that Hitomi's heart had been broken, although her friend had no idea with whom she had been in a relationship. In the end, Yukari had decided all that mattered was that Hitomi had been hurting, and she had steadfastly supported her childhood friend until the agony of that first time loss had passed. Hitomi wondered if she would have gotten through those tough years without Yukari's unwavering friendship.

She could think about him now without the searing ache of loss, although the experience had changed her. She wasn't the naïve fifteen year old anymore, or the optimistic eighteen year old university student out to change the world. She was a weary twenty nine year old with a husband she adored, a career that drove her, and a heart that had once been shattered into a thousand pieces by a love from which she had never quite recovered. In other words, she was a perfectly normal woman. Still, even though she loved her life, and Jason, she sometimes wondered what would have happened had circumstance been kinder to herself and Van.

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She'd been in the middle of finals when he appeared, perched on an invisible chair, strain showing around the lines of his eyes and mouth. He looked too old to be eighteen, too worn, under the weight of too many expectations. Hitomi put down her pen and turned in her chair to face him, a weight in her stomach simultaneously appearing with the young king of Fanelia, her body's reaction to the stress of their relationship.

He spoke first. "I can't keep putting off the advisors. Fanelia's reconstruction is complete, and it needs an heir. They won't take no for an answer anymore."

"I know," she sighed. She did. For the better part of a year, their conversations had revolved around the continuation of the royal line and the marriage the council was demanding.

"If there were anyone else- a cousin, an uncle, anyone- it wouldn't be so pressing."

"I know," she repeated dully.

"I don't want to marry anyone else, Hitomi! Why can't you understand that?" He ran an agitated hand through the unruly mop of dark hair, his voice distressed.

"I don't want you to marry anyone else either, Van! But you have to understand me as well! In my world, I'm barely an adult. I haven't had my first job, most of my things are still at my parents house, I haven't voted or drank alcohol or bought a car. I'm still a child in so many ways, Van. I'm not ready to be a wife and a mother. We've been through this!" She bit her lip hard to keep from crying. Lately it was all they talked about, and she had the horrible feeling that they couldn't keep going like this. Someone had to give in, but neither of them felt that they could.

Van was holding back tears as well as he watched her sadly. "Hitomi..."

"I can't, Van. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." Despite her best efforts, the tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks, and the weight in her belly doubled in size. She thought she might throw up. "I don't know what else to do."

He reached a trembling hand out to touch her, but of course it passed through her, as insubstantial as mist. The expression on his face matched the searing pain in her heart and she had to avert her gaze to keep from flinging herself on the floor and weeping.

"I love you," he whispered, and the anguish in that simple statement shattered her heart. She wanted to wail with the unfairness of it all, she wanted to change her mind and go with him, but she knew that to do so would be to cheapen both of them.

"I know," she said for a third time, her breath hitching. "I love you too, Van, and I always will."

She heard him whisper her name once more, whether as a curse or a prayer she was unsure, and when she looked up again, he was gone.

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She'd been twenty four when she met Jason, at a conference in Oxford for religious artifacts of Britain's indigenous people. He had been seated a few tables over, and when she glanced around the room, her gaze had met his and her breath caught in her throat. Warm brown eyes, so similar to ones she hadn't seen in six years, considered her before turning their attention back to the speaker, but later that evening, he had sought her out, introduced himself with a shy smile and a firm handshake.

He'd been witty and charming, and she'd been absolutely not interested.

Still, he hadn't given up, and after she received a package from him containing a single light bulb, she had called him demanding to know why in the world she needed such a thing. He was nonchalant.

"I just wondered if you knew how many archaeologists it takes to change a light bulb, that's all." She could hear his smile through the bad telephone connection. It annoyed her.

"Fine, I'll bite. How many?" she shouted over the crackle.

"Only one, but it will take years and years of initial site study. We have to first correlate all the surrounding furniture and domestic devices, and then decide whether the anthropological theory about the bulb being a cultic object- based on its central location in the room, its being up out of reach-symbolizing transcendence- and its obviously sun-like shape- is a correct socio-economic understanding-"

She cut him off, laughing, before he could drag it out any farther. "Enough! I get it. What a rotten joke, Espinoza."

"I know! I thought you'd enjoy it."

"You thought wrong," she replied, still grinning.

"Ah well. I often do. Have dinner with me?"

"I'm in Indonesia. No."

"You'll be in America next week. We're booked for the same lecture circuit."

He had her there. "Ok, fine. One dinner, and then you leave me alone. I told you, I'm not interested in romance."

"So you say, yet you study those lovely old myths full of heroes and thwarted love. You'll never convince me otherwise, Kanzaki," he laughed softly, and she cursed his understanding and insight.

He had won her heart through that same clarity, moving as slowly as she needed, his gentle humor and resolve finally weakening her defenses. Upon waking up in Jason's arms for the first time, it occurred to Hitomi that every morning since returning from Gaea, it had been Van's name on her lips, but no longer. Somewhere along the line, she had given up her adolescent romance for one that was just as real and true, but also of this world.

She told Jason a little about Van, leaving out most of the story, mentioning only that her first love had wanted to get married but she was far too young. She spoke as Jason held her, feeling only sorrow for the circumstances surrounding their parting. The heartbreak had passed, leaving only a muted regret for what might have been.

When Jason proposed to her, both of them waist deep in a hole, extracting bits of pottery from cliffside caves in Arizona, she hadn't hesitated in saying yes.

If Van crossed her mind in that moment, well, she was much too decorous to say so.

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Hitomi climbed out of the rented Jeep, wincing a bit at the stiffness in her limbs, and into the waiting arms of her husband. She breathed in deeply as his scent permeated her senses and relaxed for the first time in weeks.

"Welcome back, love," he murmured, brushing her long hair aside to nuzzle her neck.

"I've missed you," she admitted, turning her face to his for a kiss. He complied with a smile before grabbing her grungy bags from the backseat.

"You're sure you've got to head out again tomorrow?" he asked, leading her to the largest tent set up in the desert dig site.

She nodded, her face apologetic. "I wish I didn't have to, but it was the only time we could charter a boat to the island. The locals are suspicious of it to begin with, and when word got around that some of us thought it might be a possible site for Atlantis..." she shrugged, knowing he would understand the locals' attitude to mythological happenings.

He frowned briefly, concern flashing in his eyes. "You've got a guide lined up already?"

"Well, no, not yet. I had hoped to meet with someone tomorrow," she admitted, chewing on her lip.

Jason looked like he wanted to argue, so she silenced him with a kiss. Neither of them said anything more for several hours.

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Later that evening, they were standing out under the stars as Jason eagerly explained their latest find. He gestured down into the canyon with a grin, looking for all the world like a boy with a new toy, as he chatted about the baskets his team had unearthed. Hitomi stood far from the edge, peering down into the blackness. The canyon looked bottomless in the scant moonlight and it made her uneasy.

"Jason, please come away from the edge," she asked nervously, and he had moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

"Don't worry, love, I could navigate that cliff face with my eyes closed."

"I know, just- I don't like heights, you know that," she shuddered a bit and he drew her closer, sharing his warmth.

She placed her hand over his and threaded their fingers together, their gold rings glinting in the pale light. "I love you," she murmured as he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"I know," he replied, and she smiled.

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It was the next evening when she disembarked her plane in Africa and caught a taxi for her hotel. She hummed a bit under her breath as she waited to be checked in, in a better mood than she should have been, considering two long layovers and one missed connection. She was several hours later than she had planned, and she was starving. But the hotel was a tourist destination, which meant hot running water, clean towels, and room service. She'd stayed in worse.

The couple ahead of her finished with their registration, so she moved ahead to the counter and gave the clerk her name. He typed haltingly on an ancient computer and she drummed her fingers softly against the counter top, eager to get checked in and settled.

"Mrs. Espinoza? We have a post here for you," the man spoke in halting English, holding out a slim envelope which she took and tucked into her bag. The university foundation that funded her excursions often communicated with her through the hotels on her itinerary, so it was unusual but not unexpected to find mail waiting for her at a site. She thanked the clerk in passable English and accepted her key, shouldering her own bags rather than wait for the bellboy.

Once she was installed in a serviceable room, complete with a small shower which she immediately made use of, she sat on the edge of the double bed and pulled out the envelope.

_Mrs. Hitomi Espinoza,_

_We regret to inform you that the Stanford Archaeology Center will be unable to renew the funding provided for the upcoming fiscal year_...

She read it again.

And again.

The words didn't change. They were still placed one after the other in the same hateful pattern, shattering her hopes and dreams with sparse black ink.

They were cutting off her funding. It would take at least a year to research and write grants for more, and possibly a year after that to convince any foundations to fund the search for sites that most archaeologists considered fictional. It had been a hard fight to get funding in the first place, since she wasn't looking to uncover Biblical sites or Egyptian artifacts. Her specialty was mocked by many as being frivolous, and that attitude directly correlated to her ability to earn money for her excursions.

She would have to hire on as an assistant, follow someone else's orders, work for someone else's dream. She would have to give up Atlantis and her last link to Van.

She crumpled the devastating letter in her hand and wept into her pillow.

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Jason was sympathetic, of course. He immediately offered her a place in his team and volunteered to call around to his friends from university to see if he could garner any leads for possible grants. She thanked him quietly and tried to straighten her shoulders.

"It'll be ok, Tomi. We'll figure out something, alright? Keep your chin up."

She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her. "Hai, arigatou," she agreed, slipping back into her native Japanese.

"That's my girl. I love you."

"I love you too. I'll see you in a few days. I have to cut this trip short to be able to pay everyone."

"I look forward to it, even if I don't like the reason for it," Jason replied, his usual good humor gone.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. He always knew just what to say.

She replaced the receiver and splashed her face with cold water. She had a team to meet and a sunken island to explore.

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Three hours later, Hitomi was outfitted in diving gear, standing on the deck of an old fishing boat, going over the preliminaries with her team. She'd broken the news already about the lack of funding, so there was a glum air on the deck, but everyone was rallying around what might be their last excursion together. Hitomi looked at their faces and felt the weight of guilt even stronger than before. She was letting everyone down and she hated it.

One of her junior researchers, Thecla, reached out and grasped Hitomi's hand through the heavy diving gloves they both wore. "Don't worry, Espinoza. Everything'll work out. Maybe this will be it and the universities will be tossing cash into your lap after today." The girl smiled brightly beneath rows of braids before donning a full face mask for the deep dive to come.

Hitomi returned the smile and promised herself that she would make sure the rest of her team was well-placed. They were young, eager, and shouldn't have to carry the stigma that she herself had earned by focusing on mythological archaeology.

They anchored at the location Hitomi had given the captain, then one by one they entered the water. Hitomi usually loved this moment when the world became muted shades of green and blue and the rush of anticipation for what she might discovered overwhelmed her, but today she felt like she was just going through the motions. She couldn't believe this was the last time that she would be leading her team on the search for Atlantis.

They descended as rapidly as was safe, then moved out to their assigned quadrants. Hitomi herself would be taking the top of the submerged island, a depth of 56 meters, not as deep as the other areas, but the one most likely to turn up any evidence, providing there was any here to begin with.

_Time to get on with it then_, she said to herself, as she began to search the area.

There was nothing there. It was evident fairly quickly, yet she delayed her ascent for as long as possible, not wanting to return to the surface and the depressing reality. She checked her watch- she and her partner would need to start the ascent in less than two minutes. She started to move towards him when something on the ground caught her eye.

It was half buried in mud, but sparkled slightly when the beam from her flashlight hit it. She should mark the spot, come back down with more team members to carefully extract it. She checked her watch- a minute and a half. They wouldn't be able to descend again; they hadn't brought the extra tanks they had planned on. She couldn't afford any extra days. Forty seconds. Hitomi reached down, scooped it out and let the mud filter from her fingers. It was hard, about an inch long. She started to inspect it, but right then her partner gestured- they had to start the slow ascent. She nodded and tucked the object into her pouch, then followed her teammate upwards.

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Two hot showers in as many days. It was a miracle. She wished she were back in a tent somewhere, making do with birdbaths, if it would mean that she could continue her work.

She had tried Jason's cell again, but it was switched off. She left a message and flopped back on the bed, unsure what to do with herself. She felt the tears start again so she sat up angrily and decided to sort through her equipment, cleaning the various pieces of her dive suit.

She'd forgotten the glittery object, but it slid out of the pouch and bounced under the bed. She stuck her head underneath, blinked into the darkness and backed out again, banging her head on the frame of the bed, switched on the light, and renewed her search. It had landed amongst some dust bunnies. Hitomi sneezed a bit and vowed to speak with housekeeping. She blew on the thing a few times to clear off the furry layer of dust and almost dropped it again in shock.

In the palm of her hands lay a shard from a drag-energist.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: This story will be VH, so no worries there, but I wanted to try a more realistic retelling. It's a sad reality of life that sometimes, no matter how much two people love each other, it just doesn't work out. I wanted to work within that context- the right couple but the wrong time. I want Van and Hitomi to grow and learn each other all over again- after all, it's been a very long time. When they do come together, it won't be because of the ghost of that lost love, it will be because they've fallen in love with each other all over again, and they will both come to the relationship with the skills necessary to make it work- in other words, the right couple as well as the right time. I know this won't be everyone's cup of tea, but for those that might enjoy a look at VH from a more mature perspective, I hope you enjoy the ride. :) This chapter deals with **attempted suicide**, so if that triggers anyone, please **do not read**. Again, many thanks to **Yahnkehy** for the beta work on this chapter._

Two hours later, Hitomi paid a hundred and forty six Moroccan dirham for the shard to be mounted as a pendant, which she slid onto a purchased chain and looped around her neck. She wasn't sure what impulse had led her to do so. She barely knew what she was doing when she explained to the jeweler what it was she wanted. Now, back in the hotel room, she removed the necklace once again and watched as it swung back and forth on the chain. One... two... three... it kept time perfectly, just like the pendant she had given to Van.

Did its presence fifty six meters below the ocean mean that she had found Atlantis? Even if it was Atlantis, how did it get there? Dragons were from Van's world, not hers.

Seven... eight... nine...

Her eyes moved back and forth, following the momentum of the pendant, watching the light gleam along the surface.

What was she going to do?

As if in answer to an unspoken prayer, she saw Jason before her. He was smiling as usual, wearing the intricate harnesses and safeties used for scaling the cliff wall to the Anasazi caves. But then the world around them went black, in that familiar way that hadn't happened since she left Gaea, and she felt a sense of foreboding so strong that bile rose in the back of her throat.

She knew what was about to happen, and she was powerless to stop it.

She saw her husband descend the cliff wall, helped along by someone lowering the ropes. She saw the buckle loosen, then snap. She saw Jason's shocked face, his eyes wide and his mouth an o of surprise. She saw his hand claw futilely at the dry red clay he loved, and she watched, horrified, a scream ripping from her throat as her husband's body plummeted hundreds of feet down to the earth below.

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She charged into the bathroom and vomited, emptying the contents of her stomach repeatedly, sobbing from terror and grief, before she had the presence of mind to dial Jason's cell phone. She pressed the numbers with a shaking hand, having to start over twice before she fumbled through the eleven digits without a mistake.

She had known he wouldn't answer.

She started throwing clothes into her bags, and she was totally packed when her phone rang, her husband's associates telling her to come home, there had been an accident, take the first flight out.

They didn't tell her that her husband was dead. She already knew.

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She stood beside Jason's family at the funeral, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. His mother wept and wailed, her fists pressing into her lower belly as though her womb felt the loss of her only son. His father murmured, "Mamá, mamá," and patted her shoulder and Hitomi's alternately, looking lost and a little confused. His sister stood wide eyed, silent and pale as a ghost with a baby on her hip and a toddler at her side.

When they lowered the casket, his mother flung herself at Hitomi, her strong fingers clutching Hitomi's back. They cried together then, the keening wail of loss and devastation from one and the silent tears of a woman absolutely broken from the other. The mariachi band played gaily, an unlikely soundtrack for their heartbreak.

She did not think about what she would do next, or how she would face the huge emptiness of life without her work and Jason. There was nothing in the world that she wanted. It had all been taken from her in the span of twenty four hours.

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It wasn't difficult to slip away from the Espinoza family home. The large family had stayed up laughing and crying, singing and arguing, until late in the night. All slept now, some with the help of mezcal, a fermented agave drink that was given to everyone after the funeral. Hitomi had sipped at hers without tasting it when one of Jason's many relatives pressed it into her hand.

She was sorry to leave like this- Jason's family deserved better from her, but if she had to share in their exuberance and grief one moment more she was going to start screaming and never stop.

She drove away from the house in the Jeep and ended up at the digsite. It was empty; she had known it would be. The tents and gear were still here, but the air felt still and eerie without the usual activity.

She stood by the edge where he had been lowered. She stared at the rope marks in the dust, the stamped down footprints from the crew as they had run over to help, too late. She breathed in the dry, acrid Arizona air and the thick desert dust and imagined the coppery tang of her husband's blood on the canyon floor.

She placed one hand over the pendant, closed her eyes, and leaped over the edge.

It had been so long since she had flown.

She opened her eyes and smiled, waiting for the impact. No angel would swoop from the sky and save her this time, and at the end, she would be with her husband again.

She would be free of the pain.

Her life faded out in a haze of white.

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Merle was bored. Had the idiotic suitor realized that, he would have been frightened indeed, but he was as ignorant of her character as he was everything else, so he continued to smile blithely at her as she amused herself by devising ways to claw his eyes out.

Not that she _would_, of course. A lady didn't do those things, and Merle was, if only on the outside, a perfect lady.

But gods, she itched to throw something at this jerk and get lost in the garden for a while. She wiggled her toes in her shoes and covered a wince with what she hoped was a convincing smile.

At twenty seven, she was well past the prime age for marriage, but her position as close friend and attendant of the Fanelian king made her a prime target for every power hungry fop in this kingdom and several others. This latest suitor was just one in a long line, and she knew there'd be many more where he came from. She bit back a sigh and pretended to be interested in whatever it was the jackass was baying about now.

Was it so wrong to want to love a prospective husband?

She had seen true love once, before either party was aware of the depth of their feelings, and she had promised herself she would settle for nothing less. Unfortunately, said parties had, and she had seen how well _that_ had turned out. Not that she knew how Hitomi was, but she had seen firsthand how Van and his marriage had suffered.

It wasn't all Van's fault, she knew. Queen Sophie was really quite unbearable. She hoped Hitomi had fared better.

As if summoned by the thought of the Girl from the Mystic Moon, a beam of bright white light shot down from the heavens, disappearing behind a cluster of trees in the royal courtyard.

"Will you look at that!" the idiot beside her said, dumbfounded.

Merle was on her feet and racing forward before the dandy knew what was happening.

"Get Lord Van," she screamed to a pair of guards as she ran as fast as her stupid shoes would let her. "Get Lord Van _now_!"

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He was buried in paperwork; he was drowning in advice, and he was _this_ close to losing it.

Since he couldn't order everyone out of his sight just so he could enjoy a summer day away from his Privy Council and his wife, he stayed seated, and if his gaze wandered to the open window a few more times than was absolutely necessary, his counselors were too circumspect to mention it.

He drummed the quill in his hand as conversation continued around him.

"Lord Van," Sir Guy Courtenay, Lord Treasurer, pleaded. "You must speak to Queen Sophie about her spending. The kingdom simply can not afford her constant extravagance. One hundred seventy six gidaru on three days worth of wine!" Courtenay shook a slip of paper in his direction and looked apoplectic. "Three days! Absurd!"

Van itched to tell him that he hadn't wanted to marry a spoiled princess like Sophie to begin with and had only done so at his and the rest of the Council's insistence, but he only nodded. Better not to rehash old arguments.

"Your Majesty," Sir Mikael Roth, Principal Secretary, interrupted smoothly, causing Sir Guy to sputter, "if you might authorize the latest taxes, we can get started on the training the latest army recruits."

"More taxes?" Van raised an eyebrow. "Is that really necessary?"

Sir Mikael glanced from Guy's reddened face back to Van. "I'm afraid so, sire. Paying off the last of the loans to the crown of Asturia has left us at our lowest point fiscally since the burning of Fanelia."

Van sighed inwardly and barely resisted sagging forward in defeat. "Fine, but this tax is to be temporary. As soon as the treasury is in better condition I want it dropped."

"Understood."

That bit of unpleasantness taken care of, he waited for the next round. Sure enough, he noticed several of the counselors exchanging _looks_, but no one spoke.

"Well, what is it?" Van asked crossly, staring shrewdly from face to face.

Sir Francis Lacour spoke, his voice gravelly and low. "We have received reports of which you should be aware."

"Concerning?" Van's curiosity was piqued. Sir Francis was the head of his spy network, a man who saw plots within plots, but he was highly effective, and if he thought something was concerning, Van knew better than to ignore it.

"If we could speak privately, my lord?"

Van nodded, then dismissed the Privy Council with a wave of his hand. The men trailed out, the last one shutting the heavy oak door behind him. Van knew that behind the door stood four guards, with another four outside a second door. Sir Francis had insisted upon the measure. Quite possibly it was paranoia, but again, Van couldn't argue with the effectiveness of the man's methods.

"Lord Van, the reports from Cesario trouble me greatly."

"Cesario? Again? My marriage agreement with Queen Sophie also included a treaty between our kingdoms. Would King Arnulf be daft enough to violate the alliance?"

"It seems so, sire." Sir Francis stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I have mentioned before that Arnulf would stop at nothing to rule both his kingdom and yours. We both know marrying his daughter to you was a ploy to do just that."

Van scowled and propped his elbows on the polished table. "She's been pressuring me to grant her the Crown Matrimonial."

"The Privy Council will not allow it."

He grinned, the first sign of joy he had shown all day. "I know. They may have picked an unsuitable wife, but at least they won't give her the means to dispose of me."

Sir Francis frowned, bushy eyebrows meeting at the bridge of his nose. "Yes, well, I'm sure they thought they were doing the right thing."

Van didn't agree, but he decided not to say so.

Sir Francis cleared his throat and continued. "Might I suggest-"

"Lord Van!" The shout and accompanying pounding at the door caused both men to swivel around.

Sir Francis opened the door and the guard snapped to attention. "Lord Van, the Lady Merle sends word that you are needed at once in the gardens."

"What is it?" Van asked, rising from his chair. _Saved_!

"I'm unsure, sire, but it seems to be an emergency."

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Merle sat beside Hitomi's prone form protectively, not allowing the guards to move the woman until she knew what was wrong. She didn't look injured, but she seemed to be unconscious and was most definitely unresponsive. She didn't know much about healing and found herself wishing that Millerna were here. She'd know what to do.

For lack of anything else to do, Merle picked up one of Hitomi's hands and held it in her own. The nails were plain, trimmed neatly across and unpainted. A plain gold band adorned one finger, paired with a gem encrusted ring. A wedding band? Even knowing that Van was married, she felt a stab of sorrow at seeing the evidence that Hitomi, too, had moved on. So much for love conquers all.

_Hurry up, Lord Van_, she urged silently and was gratified to hear hurried footsteps heading in their direction. She turned slightly so she could see Van's reaction once he realized exactly who was lying amongst his prized Angel Trumpets.

"Merle?"

"Over here," she called, gripping Hitomi's hand.

He rounded the corner and stopped short, causing his advisor and two guards to bump into him. He paled, his eyes glued to Hitomi's face as if he expected her to disappear before his eyes. "Merle?" he asked again, his voice belying an uncertainly she hadn't heard from him in years.

"I don't know what happened, Lord Van. I saw the pillar of light and ran over here. And here she was, just like this. I think there's something wrong. She's not waking up."

His gaze darted from Hitomi's face to the hand Merle held. She knew the exact moment when he realized Hitomi wore a wedding ring by the slight thinning of his lips. "Fetch a doctor," he ordered one of the guards.

"Already done, sire."

The king, unmindful of his expensive tailored breeches, knelt down in the flower bed at Hitomi's side. He watched her with such a neutral expression that Merle knew he was keeping his emotions under tight rein. It wouldn't do to slip up in front of anyone else.

"Lord Van?" Sir Francis' rough voice cut through the cat-woman's thoughts. "Who is this?"

Lord Van didn't appear to have heard the question, so Merle answered for him. "This is the Lady Hitomi, the Seer from the Mystic Moon."

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The doctor arrived and Hitomi was moved to a comfortable suite near Merle's. Those members of the Privy Council who were present – namely Sir Francis and Sir Mikael, who came to speak with the king regarding the training of the new army recruits but was waved off- exchanged glances at the king's installation of the Seer in his private wing, but said nothing.

Merle waited by Hitomi's side while Lord Van paced in a corner, unable to leave her but unwilling to get too close. Sirs Francis and Mikael hovered in the doorway flanked by the two guards. The doctor, a middle-aged man with a no-nonsense demeanor, straightened from where he had been leaning over the still form of the patient and glared. "There are far too many people in this room."

Merle looked at Lord Van, who glared at the cluster of men by the door. They rapidly made their excuses, bowed, and left. The guards took their place in the hallway and closed the door behind them.

"How is she?" Merle asked, leaning forward to peer into Hitomi's pale face.

"I can find no reason for her lack of consciousness. I anticipate that she will awaken soon, but beyond that, I can not say. She seems perfectly healthy." He shrugged and gave strict orders that he was to be called when the Seer awakened, leaving Merle and the king alone with Hitomi.

Merle watched as Lord Van continued to pace. He refused to meet her gaze, so she turned her attention back to her friend lying on the bed. Her hair was much longer than it had been, probably to the middle of her back, although it was currently uncombed and lay in tangles around the pale face. The only color in her skin was the swollen red eyelids, and there were shiny marks dried down the white cheeks.

"Lord Van, Hitomi's been crying," she said, still off balance from the turn of events.

"I know."

She reached out and traced a finger along the warm metal of the wedding band. "Why do you think she's here?"

He stopped pacing and stared out of the window, back through the gardens where Hitomi first reappeared. Instead of answering, he asked, "Why don't you tell me again what happened?"

Merle shrugged, then acquiesced. "I was sitting on one of the benches around the gardens, trying to think of a way to get rid of Miguel-"

"That dandy?"

She grimaced. "The same. Anyway, I was thinking of Hitomi, wondering how she was, and all of a sudden I saw the pillar of light. When I got there, she was laying just as you saw her."

He stood at the window, his back to her. "You just _happened_ to be thinking of Hitomi."

She wasn't going to tell him what she had really been thinking. "Yup."

He didn't respond.

She held a hand up to the light and inspected her cuticles. "You still love her, huh?"

"I'm married, Merle."

She grinned smugly and started carefully shaping her nails. He hadn't denied it. In fourteen years, he had never once denied that it was Hitomi he loved, and she doubted he ever would.

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Hitomi was dreaming. She had to be, because she heard the low murmur of voices, and she was pretty sure dead people were unable to hear anything. So she wasn't dead, and if she wasn't dead, then she had to have been dreaming the past few days. Ergo, Jason was still alive.

It made perfect sense to her in her exhausted state, and she lay a moment longer with her eyes closed, savoring the _rightness_ of life after such an awful dream.

Her lips curved into a contented smile, and when she felt a gentle, hesitant touch on her shoulder, she clasped the masculine hand – strong, large, and calloused- in hers and pulled it to her lips so she could kiss the open palm.

She heard a sharp intake of breath and laced her fingers with Jason's. "You _would not_ believe the dream I've had," she mumbled, keeping a tight hold on the hand that seemed to be trying to free itself while she contemplated opening her eyes.

From somewhere off to her left came a muffled snort, distinctly _un_masculine, and a deep voice on the other side wryly stated, "Try me."

She _knew_ that voice. It had haunted her dreams for close to fifteen years, and it was _not_ her husband's.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at the hand whose fingers were intertwined with her own. How could she have mistaken this hand for Jason's? The callous pattern was totally different, suited for a sword rather than a trowel, and the fingers were long with neatly pared nails, not the broad, short fingers of her husband, not Jason's ragged nails caked with clay.

The owner of the hand tugged again gently, and she dropped it as if it burned against her skin. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and she dropped her lids before they could roll down her face. The overwhelming grief crashed into her once again, made all the more powerful by its momentary absence and those few happy moments of normalcy.

_Van_. And Gaea...

...meant Jason was still dead. It wasn't just a horrible nightmare, it was real, her new reality, and her attempts to escape it had somehow landed her a world away from anywhere she could call home.

A sob escaped her, and she rolled away from the man standing at her bedside, brought her knees to her chest and tried to will herself to be still and composed. It didn't work. Her traitorous body was shaking with the force of her pain and loss, and she was sure she was going to start keening as loudly as Jason's mother had when he was lowered into the ground.

_Jason_.

She bit her knuckle hard, heard someone move to the door and the soft snick as it closed behind them. Thinking herself alone, she allowed the agony to pour through her, gasping as the sobs wracked her small form. When strong arms enveloped her from behind and cradled her against a hard chest, she didn't have the strength to fight. She leaned into the embrace, allowing him to support her as she grieved.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Beta'd again by the fabulous Yahnkehy._

Minutes or hours later, Hitomi wasn't sure, the torrent had reduced to small hiccuping sobs and the occasional tremor. Still he held her, occasionally running a hand down the length of her hair. When had Van learned to comfort anyone?

She immediately dismissed the thought as uncharitable. It has been eleven years since they'd last spoken, and fourteen years since they'd last shared the same physical space. Of course he'd changed, just as she had. The last time she had seen Van, he'd been a gangling youth, just starting to move into manhood. The man holding her now bore only superficial resemblance to the boy he'd been. He was still long and lean, sinewy muscles disguised by the trim form, he still had the shock of dark hair and warm brown eyes, but the planes of his face were sharper now, the eyes shrewd, the hair longer and tied neatly back with a leather cord. He had an air of authority now that the fifteen year old boy had only been beginning to develop and a grace that came from continuous practice with a sword. Indeed, the same sword was still belted across his waist and slung low over one hard hip.

He had been a beautiful boy. He was now a gorgeous man.

She sniffed and shifted away, suddenly embarrassed by his nearness. He moved away easily as if sensing that his presence was no longer necessary.

"I'm sorry," she said to break the silence, her voice hoarse from four days of crying.

He clasped his hands in front of him, his dark eyes considering as he watched her. Once, she would have known what he was thinking.

"What's happened, Hitomi?"

A simple question deserving of a straight answer, but she had yet to say the words aloud and so they stuck, somewhere between her heart and her throat. Finally, she rasped out, "My husband. He... there was... an accident. He..." She was afraid she would cry again, but instead she only felt hollow, so she shrugged helplessly and looked away.

"He passed away?" Van's gentle inquiry should have brought the encompassing pain to a head once more, but the hollowness only spread a bit farther. She was glad. Empty was preferable to that overwhelming agony.

She gave a short nod, one small jerk of the head and the silence descended once more.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Hitomi," he finally stated a few shades higher than a whisper.

She turned her wedding ring around on her finger and tried not to think of the day Jason put it there.

A group of courtiers moved through the garden, their laughing voices drifting up through the open window. A slight breeze moved the curtains and a few stray strands of Van's hair.

"I'm sorry to have to ask this of you now, Hitomi, but I must know. How did you get here?"

She wondered herself. "I'm not sure, but I think it has something to do with this," she reached down the neck of her rumbled shirt and pulled out the pendant.

He stared at it in shock before pulling the original from beneath his tunic. "Where did...?" His befuddled glance bounced between the two shards. They were close to identical.

"I found it, the day that Jason... the day that... that day," she finished lamely. "It was far underwater, on a submerged island I suspect might have been Altantis."

He sat down hard in an upholstered chair. "I think you need to start from the beginning."

She took a fortifying breath and nodded. "After college, I became an archaeologist. That means I find and study artifacts left behind by previous civilizations. For seven years I've been traveling around the Mystic Moon, seeking any items that might help me find the locations of several civilizations that are considered mythological."

"Including Atlantis." She had told him, years before, that Atlantis was just a story on her world. Had she really dedicated herself to finding it? Why?

"Yes."

"Go on."

"My team and I had heard of an island that became submerged in the sea many, many years ago. We chartered a boat, put on special suits to allow us to breathe underwater, and dove down to see what we could find. I found this," she rolled the shard between her fingers and frowned thoughtfully. "My funding had been cut off, so I couldn't afford to send the team back down for another look, so I brought it up with me. At first I thought it was just a curiosity, a nice reminder of my last excavation. It wasn't until I got back to the inn that I discovered it was an energist shard. I found a jeweler and had it put it on a chain for me. Then-" she abruptly ended her story, unwilling to share that she watched her husband die from thousands of miles away.

He waited.

"Then I got the phone call and I went back to bury my husband and I forgot about it," she stated shortly.

"Did you call the light?"

She shook her head. "It just came." Did he think she would have? That she was the type of woman who would go running to a former love when her husband had just died? Did he really think so lowly of her?

"What were you doing at the time?" he pressed, and she found herself hating him at that moment.

"I wanted to remember what it felt like to fly," she replied, brutally honest, unable to care what he thought, only wanting to be alone.

She watched his eyes close briefly as if he were pained, but a moment later his expression was inscrutable. He parted his lips to speak, but a knock sounded and a guard poked his head around the door frame.

"Lord Van, the Queen is requesting your presence in her sitting room."

So he had married as well. Of course he had, she had known he must, and it had probably happened within weeks of her last refusal.

As he exited the room without a word beyond a simple, "Excuse me," she wanted to feel grateful for the emptiness that kept the pain at bay, but she couldn't. She could feel nothing at all, and she was hopeful that she never would again.

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Van strode through the halls, stopping only to send a messenger to Merle with a hastily scrawled note. He kept his expression impassive, his hands relaxed by his sides. He had become adept at wearing the masks that duty required, but it had been years- eleven years, to be precise- since something had shaken him as badly as the sight of Hitomi's bleak face.

He did not have to ask her if she loved her husband. He could read the devastation in her every movement. He knew the feeling; he had seen the same bleakness in his mirror after she refused him. He had felt it again when she had uttered those chilling last words.

She loved her dead husband so much that she was willing to throw away her own life to be with him. It made him so angry, so _jealous_ that she cared for someone that much. Why couldn't she have loved _him_ that much? Surely leaving a planet would be easier than killing oneself would be! Her husband- Jason- had been worth her life. Van hadn't even been worth her home.

He tightened his jaw and kept walking.

He shouldn't be thinking like that. She was in pain and needed a friend, not a jealous, jilted, would-have-been lover. He took a steadying breath and tried to think about what he was going to do. Even after eleven years apart, seeing her hurting still tore him to the core.

First and foremost, he needed to keep her away from Sophie.

He entered his wife's sitting room, ignoring the courtiers who scrambled to attention as he entered. She was seated on a plush chair, a small dog on her lap and two maidens at her slippered feet. Yards of the finest Asturian silk and Cesarion lace swallowed her slight form, and the flushed face that peeked out above the massive collar was pinched with displeasure.

He leaned over the hand she offered and kissed the cold, thin fingers.

"I expected that you would dine with me," Sophie chided, using the high pitched, childish tone that she imagined made her irresistible to men. It grated on Van's nerves.

"I apologize. There was an unforeseen development during my meeting and it has occupied me for the better part of the day." He stood stiffly, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"I see," she pouted, reaching up to pat her platinum blonde hair and smooth it back into place. "And the evening meal?"

"I have a meeting with General Misa and will likely dine with him." _Anything to keep me occupied_, he thought but could not vocalize.

Sophie waved her bejeweled hand and a harpist in the corner started to play. It was a Cesarion tune, light and vibrant. Van had always preferred the melodious Fanelian songs, even if they were more somber in tone. Cesarion music reminded him of his Cesarion wife- all flash and little substance.

He gritted his teeth and bowed again. "Was there anything else my lady wife required?"

Her gaze sharpened shrewdly but her voice was nonchalant as she asked, "What's this I hear about a visitor?"

_Damn_. He knew there was no hiding Hitomi's arrival but he had hoped the news wouldn't have spread quite so quickly. "The Seer from the Mystic Moon has arrived," he answered grudgingly.

"Is that so? How wonderful! You must make her one of my ladies-in-waiting," Sophie smiled triumphantly, a predatory gleam in her eyes.

Van's mind whirled. Had the old rumors of his infatuation with the Seer ever reached Cesario? Even if they hadn't, what the hell was Sophie planning? He'd be damned if he was going to force Hitomi to pander to his selfish wife. "I'm certain she has no plans of remaining, so that won't be necessary," he lied smoothly before exiting the overly-perfumed chamber. He always needed a few deep breaths to clear away the cloying scent.

His thoughts continued to race as he made his way to his Lower Study. Should he send Hitomi to Asturia? Millerna and Dryden would surely protect her. But no, he didn't want to have to send her away unless it became absolutely necessary, and while Sophie was vindictive and spoiled, she wasn't stupid. She wouldn't harm Hitomi and risk being caught.

"Send Lacour to me," he ordered a passing courtier, then ensconced himself into the study.

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Sir Mikael Roth pushed the bit of paper across the table and sighed. "Then it's worse than we thought."

Sir Francis Lacour inclined his head. "Arnulf is determined to get his hands on Fanelia one way or the other. If the Queen's bid for the Crown Matrimonial fails, he's got schemes in place to alternately have Van declared incompetent, or have him brought up on charges of sexual perversion, or have him killed outright, or have Cesario invade. However, I've uncovered one plot in particular that you might be interested in."

"Oh?"

"It involves the death of the King while his child is very young- young enough for a regent. Guess who would happen to be named Lord Protector in the child's stead?" Sir Francis made a face that left no doubt to his feelings for the whole debacle.

"Interesting that he assumes that the Queen isn't barren after so long. So it's as we suspected; Arnulf has ordered that Sophie not conceive until his plans are in place. This explains much."

"It appears so. There should have been a heir by now, even _with_ the almost nonexistent conjugal visits."

"If that's the case, we can bring her up on suspicion of treason." Sir Mikael smiled, but it looked wrong on the man's kind, fleshy face. He wished, not for the first time, that Sir Mikael were a little more ruthless. It would make his job much easier.

"Not quite yet. We need something other than hearsay. The king will not sign an order of execution for anyone without absolute proof of guilt. And besides that, the second part of Arnulf's plan requires that the Privy Council be infiltrated. I've yet to determine if anyone is compromised."

Sir Mikael looked alarmed at the admission. "Surely not...?"

"Are you willing to take that chance?"

"Of course not. Do what you must, I understand. But what are we to do against Arnulf's latest schemes?"

Sir Francis's thin lips quirked into a twisted smile. "No worries. My men have already muddled them so greatly they'll never see fruition. It's not the plans we know about that has me concerned; it's the ones we know nothing of, as I'm certain they exist."

"Indeed," Sir Mikael blustered.

"One last thing, Roth. This Seer- what do you know about her?"

Sir Mikael frowned thoughtfully. "Well, it was rumored years ago that the King was rather taken with her. No one seemed to know for certain if it was truth. Some people even said that part of the King's reluctance to marry came from a desire to take her for a wife. I doubt that was so, but it was a pretty popular speculation at court at the time."

_Interesting_. Sir Francis pursed his lips slightly. "Any particular reason you doubted the King's affection?"

Sir Mikael gathered his paperwork and rose from the chair. "Have you ever known a woman to deny a King?"

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Merle knocked twice on the door to Hitomi's chambers, then poked her head in. "Good! You're awake!"

She had received Van's message, which contained a shortened version of Hitomi's tale, so she was not surprised to see the other woman's wan face and unfocused eyes. She felt a pang of sympathy for her friend's loss, and wondered how best to be supportive.

Finally, she crossed the room and took Hitomi's hands in her own. "Tell me," she said simply.

To her surprise, Hitomi did. She spoke without emotion, which sounded eerie to Merle when she was describing painful periods in her life, but she talked about her life back on the Mystic Moon, her heartbreak when she refused Van, meeting and marrying Jason. She spoke about her work and her team and her guilt at letting them down.

For two hours, she spoke, and towards the end her voice lost the hollow tone that had sent shivers down the cat-woman's spine. Finally, she sounded more like Hitomi and less like a guymelef would if it had the powers of speech.

"You didn't have children, then?" Merle asked.

Hitomi shook her head. "No. I... he asked, a few times. He wanted them, but... I couldn't. Not then."

"I think I understand," she replied with a slight smile. "After all, I'm not even married yet, and the thought of kids..." she gave an exaggerated shudder and was pleased when Hitomi gave a low chuckle.

"Does _he_ have children?" Hitomi looked as though she was afraid to know.

Merle didn't have to ask who _he_ was. "No. There's no heir."

"But... he's been married how long now?"

"Ten years. It's not a love match, Hitomi, you must realize that. Lord Van married her because he had to. There were rumors circulating amongst the people of Fanelia that he was intending to let the royal line die out. It almost caused riots. People were calling for him to be removed from the throne, for someone else to be crowned- someone who would marry and have an heir. The country was on the verge of civil war." Merle shrugged, but her face darkened at the thought of those awful days. "Lord Van held everything together as best he could, but in the end, the Privy Council demanded that he marry or abdicate. They chose the Princess Sophie to be his wife, and when Lord Van found out who it was, he very nearly _did_ abdicate. If he didn't love Fanelia so much, I'm sure he would have."

Hitomi sat back, shock clearly apparent in her eyes. "I didn't know it was so bad. I knew they wanted him to marry but... I didn't realize..."

"He doesn't blame you!" she was quick to point out. "He didn't want to tell you. I think he was afraid you'd only marry him so he could keep the throne, and then you'd both have been miserable."

"Would we?" Hitomi looked at Merle, grief-stricken. "I loved him so much, wouldn't it have been enough?"

"I think..." She trailed off to gather her thoughts, then continued, "I think love's weird that way, because it can be so incredibly strong, but it's fragile at the same time, you know? And resentment will eat away at it bit by bit, so before you're even aware of it, your whole foundation has crumbled. And you were smart enough to know that you weren't ready, and strong enough to tell him so."

"So you don't believe in the power of one true love?" Hitomi asked, somewhat sarcastically.

Merle let it slide and replied lightly, "I do, actually. But I think life doesn't always give you your one true love at the right time. It's a good thing people can go on to love again, isn't it?"


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thanks to Yahnkehy for the great beta work._

Several weeks passed in a whirlwind. After that overwhelming first day, when Van had held her while she cried, he had kept his distance. They had spoken several times, but never more than a few words at a time, and never in private. She had taken to spending her time in the gardens and the surrounding forests- sitting, thinking, grieving.

Sometimes Merle would accompany her, and Hitomi was surprised by how much she enjoyed the cat-woman's company. The passing time had erased her bratty tendencies, leaving an observant, intelligent, and witty companion. She was still capable of using her sharp tongue and sharper claws, but those were most often directed towards her many suitors. Hitomi couldn't fathom how it was that Merle had remained unmarried, and finally worked up the courage to ask.

Merle just smiled mysteriously and said, "I'm waiting for the best."

"Van?" Hitomi inquired timidly.

Merle laughed so hard that she ended up holding her sides and wheezing. She couldn't help but chuckle along, especially when Merle's eyes met hers and started another wave of laughter. "Hardly. I grew out of that childhood crush rather quickly, thank you. So no worries!"

Hitomi started to tell her that she wasn't worried, not in the least, but Merle jumped up and brushed the grass from her skirt. "C'mon. You've been here over a month now, and you're going to have to be presented to the court sooner or later. You need clothes."

"Clothes? What's wrong with what I have on?" She glanced down at her borrowed frock in confusion.

"Hitomi! It's a maid's dress, that's what. You need _clothes_. Dresses, smallclothes, jewels! Velvets, silks, satins, brocades!" Merle plucked the simple linen of Hitomi's dress and wrinkled her nose.

"When did you become such a fashionista?" she grumbled, but allowed herself to be helped up.

"Hm?"

"Someone who lives for fashion," she explained, picking a few stray leaves from her skirt.

Merle blinked, then giggled. "Around the court, you have to be. Don't you know your worth is determined by your clothing and jewels?"

"It most certainly is _not_!" Hitomi exclaimed, affronted by the medieval reasoning.

Merle clicked her tongue and waved a hand in dismissal. "You know what I mean. You'll have an easier time navigating the sharks if you're well-dressed. They're a difficult bunch of biddies at the best of times. You _don't_ want to have to deal with them clothed in a maid's shift."

"But Van's a king, and he always dresses simply!" she protested.

"You really are blind. His clothes are made of the best fabrics, are well cut, and drape beautifully. Just because they're not adorned with all that trim that some men prefer doesn't mean they're simple."

Hitomi buried her face in her hands and groaned. "I don't know anything about that. How am I supposed to know what's what?"

Merle grinned cheerfully. "Don't worry! I'll help you!"

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"There!" Merle pointed to a carved sign and tugged her arm with the other hand. "That's a good jeweler. We'll start there."

"Oh no!" She stopped short, mortified. "Merle, I don't have any way to pay for anything, let alone jewels!"

Merle looked at her oddly but pulled her through the door anyway. Hitomi stood by helplessly as she was draped with emeralds, sapphires, and pearls. Merle fired off instructions to the clerks regarding length and cut and ordered that everything be billed to the Marchioness' estate. To Hitomi's surprise, the clerks didn't even bat an eye.

After an exhausting run through every milliner's and dressmaker's shop within walking distance of the castle, Hitomi was ready to fall over. When Merle mentioned that Hitomi would need a second fitting on all the clothing, she gave up. She collapsed in the nearest chair and stared up at the wooden beams crossing the ceiling.

"Don't worry, they can come to you for that," Merle assured, looking Hitomi over with a critical eye. "How long has it been since you had a decent meal?"

"I ate this morning."

"You didn't. You took two bites and sent the tray away."

She blushed. She hadn't been aware that Merle had been watching her so carefully.

"I haven't been very hungry," she admitted.

"You need to eat. Come on. There's an inn across the street. We can get a meal there."

She let herself be led along, and in very little time was seated at a comfortable table with a steaming plate of meat and vegetables in front of her. She made herself pick up the utensils and take a bite as Merle did her best to educate her on court protocol.

"Merle, I don't understand all the fuss. I don't remember so much ceremony when I was here before, nor in Asturia or Freid."

"You're kidding, right? Fanelia's court is tiny compared to those countries! But you're right, we were never one for such displays before. All of this is thanks to Queen Sophie, who insisted that there be a court to show the world we weren't just a bunch of backwater farmers." Merle's face darkened as she spat out the words. "So courtiers from Cesario followed the Queen here, and those titled in Fanelia started coming, too, and everything just sort of took off."

She popped some rice into her mouth and continued. "To be honest, I'm not even sure why Sophie married Lord Van. She doesn't love him, and she doesn't seem to like Fanelia at all, either. She's always complaining about the weather, or the natives, or that we don't have the entertainment and wealth that Asturia does. But I guess we're the only country that would have her."

Hitomi glanced around them. The inn was crowded, and several people had to have overhead Merle's declaration, but no one seemed willing to stand up for their Queen. "Merle, should you be saying such things?" she asked in an undertone.

The cat-woman shrugged and took a sip of wine. "Why not? There's no love lost between Fanelia and her Queen. The people aren't ignorant backwater fools, which is something Sophie would have done well to remember."

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Several weeks later, Merle was on her way to Hitomi's rooms to give her a last minute round of instructions on court etiquette for her presentation that evening when she heard Queen Sophie calling her name. Composing her face quickly into the expression of bland interest she wore around the Queen, Merle turned and dropped into a curtsy.

"The King mentioned to me that he was going to speak to the Lady Hitomi about the administration of her estate. You've not mentioned it to her yet, have you?"

Merle was puzzled by why the Queen would be concerning herself with such matters, but she strove not to let it show. "No, Your Majesty." _Majesty, my foot_!

"Good. I know the King wanted to tell her himself- a surprise, you understand. Anyway, since you needn't interrupt them, I have a few favors to ask of you. Come."

Merle cursed inwardly and had no choice but to follow.

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The day that the Court reconvened arrived more swiftly than Hitomi would have liked. Merle had said she'd be by to make sure Hitomi had everything right, but as the hour for the presentation approached, there was still no sign of Merle. Finally, a maid had arrived and said it was time to dress.

Hitomi had always through that having someone dress her would be slightly embarrassing and demeaning, but as the woman led her expertly through the laces, straps, ties and stays, she found herself immensely grateful for the help. No wonder women never dressed themselves. It was virtually impossible! It took another maid to help the first lift the voluminous dress over her simple muslin shift, and then she had to sit while her hair was dressed. She thought it odd that there were more cosmetics in her world than on Gaea, considering the ostentatious style of dress, but she was still scented and powdered and had her eyes outlined with kohl. The maid fastened pearl and emerald earrings to Hitomi's lobes and clasped a matching necklace around her throat, then turned her around to face a full mirror.

Staring back at her was a beautiful woman straight out of a history book, clad in a dark green silk gown, with jewels at her throat and adorning honey colored curls, a heavy court train suspended from her shoulders. She blinked, stunned that she could look so different, so lovely.

Bit it wasn't her. She wanted nothing more than to be outfitted in a pair of old track pants, with beat up sneakers and an oversized sweatshirt. That was who Hitomi Kanzaki Espinoza was- not this delicate, perfumed creature getting ready to rub elbows with the elite of Fanelia.

Had Van ever felt this way? He'd been so unassuming after that first disastrous meeting. A King, yes, but also a real person, always decked out in simple red shirts that kept getting ruined and tan pants that were indistinguishable from the clothes of his people.

Was Merle right? Did the trappings mark the worth of a person? Hitomi didn't believe so, so shouldn't the reverse hold true as well- wasn't she the same person all dressed up that she was in the yearned-for track pants? Was she, in reality, a reverse-snob?

_Quit it_, she told herself severely. _Stop obsessing and just try to enjoy tonight_. _Or if that's too much to ask, try to get through it without embarrassing yourself_.

She smiled then, and turned from the mirror as the door opened. Merle whirled in, beautifully outfitted in a pale pink gown that complemented her hair. "Good, you're ready, we need to move or we're going to be late!"

Hitomi was rushed down the hallway by Merle, who was repeating the most important things for her to remember. "It's duke, marquis, earl, viscount, baron. Just remember that duke outranks everything except the King and Queen and you'll be fine. Don't turn your back on Lord Van or the Queen, back away instead. Don't rise until they acknowledge you. It's Your Majesty the first time and Sir or Ma'am after that. Curtsy just as low to the Queen as you do Lord Van, although she doesn't deserve it, and bow your head when you curtsy. Oh, I know I'm forgetting something!"

"I'll do my best," Hitomi promised, gripping Merle's hand hard as they were led into the Presence Chamber. "But afterwards, will you please introduce me to the marchioness who paid for all my clothes? I'd like to thank her."

Merle's horrified face stared back at her. "But Hitomi, didn't Lord Van-"

Whatever Merle was going to say was cut off, as the Gentleman at Arms moved to take Hitomi's train and lead her forward. She had just enough time to throw a bewildered glance back at a visibly shaken Merle, before the Lord Chamberlain announced, "The Most Honorable The Marchioness of Arzas."

Most Honorable? Marchioness? _What the hell was going on_?

The Gentleman at Arms cleared his throat quietly, which gave Hitomi a much-needed prod. She looked across the room and saw Van and his wife seated side by side on their respective thrones. Van was wearing the formal court dress of Fanelia, red with gold trim that made him look, if possible, even more handsome than his everyday wear.

Somehow, she made it down the red carpet and bowed low before Van. "Rise, Lady Arzas," he stated; sounding formal and a little perturbed. Had she done something to annoy him already? But there was little time to contemplate that, as she had to curtsy again to Queen Sophie. This was the first time she'd met Van's wife, and her stomach was in knots. She stayed down, her head brushing the carpet, for several long seconds before the nasally voice finally commanded her to rise. She met the Queen's eyes briefly and was shocked to find them glaring at her, hatred burning in their depths. As she backed away as gracefully as she could, Hitomi knew she had somehow made an enemy of the Queen.

Merle was waiting for her in the corner, wringing her hands and looking positively sick.

"_What_ is going on?" Hitomi hissed as soon as she was in range.

"I'm so sorry, Hitomi! I thought Lord Van told you!"

"Told. Me. _What_?" she ground out, perilously close to losing her temper.

"Lord Van made you a marchioness. Surprise?" Merle said, lilting the last word and giving a smile that clearly said _that's good news, right?_

"Why would he do that?" she asked, blindsided.

"I couldn't tell you, to be honest. He meant to do it before if you agreed to marry him, since there's a law in Fanelia that says commoners aren't allowed to marry royalty. So he was going to raise you to nobility to get around that. But the really weird thing is that he ended up doing it _after_ he married Sophie."

"I'm a _noble_?"

"Lady Arzas," confirmed Merle. "I imagine you'll need to take a trip out to your estate sooner or later, but I wouldn't worry too much. Lord Van has been administering your accounts himself. His counselors kept telling him that they could take care of it, but he told them no, that he would handle it."

"My... estate." She was beginning to feel slightly woozy.

"It's a beautiful one, too. You're loaded, Hitomi."

"I've got to sit down," she said weakly.

"No time for that now, here come the sharks. Smile, Lady Arzas," Merle muttered, then raised her voice in greeting. "How wonderful to see you again, Lady Blythe."

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Van shifted slightly on the throne and wished the presentations would be over with already. It was infinitely harder to do his duty when his whole being was aware of the beauty in the emerald dress that was taking the court by storm. Merle had done her duty well, preparing Hitomi for the cutthroat world of courtiers- almost too well, truth be told. For several seconds, he had thought that Sophie's jealousies had gotten the best of her and she was going to leave Hitomi down on the carpet. He had been about to intercede when she had finally spoken. He'd never before been so glad to hear Sophie's voice. However, he was aware that now there was no way his wife was going to rest until she was certain that the Seer was not a threat.

He hated this- the court, the back stabbing, the false flattery. It went against everything he personally held to be important. There were days when he wished with all his heart that he had been born a simple farmer, free to live life on his own terms. Strange that he had held the highest position in the kingdom, yet he was the least free of them all.

Sophie gestured to yet another prostrate courtier, and the fabric from her sleeve brushed against the arm of his coat. He did his best not to shudder. _How had things gotten so out of control_? he wondered. All he wanted out of life was to rule Fanelia wisely, with Hitomi by his side. That's all he had ever asked for. He liked to think that he was ruling well, and yet the one thing that he had wanted for himself he had been denied. Instead of being seated by his side, she had been bowing to him, her head bent in submission. It was enough to make a sane man snap.

Van's eyes followed her form as Merle led her around the room, presenting her to the gathered lords and ladies. Why was she here? She'd made it very clear that it hadn't been her choice to return, and he knew from her maid's confidential reports to him that she still cried at night. Several times a day, he had to stop himself from seeking her out, just to reassure himself that she was still here, and that was the damnedest thing of all, because he didn't _want_ her to be here. Her presence made him antsy, worried, had his stomach clenching and his nerves set on edge. Strange, because at one time she had been able to cool his temper with only her presence.

They'd both grown up, and grown apart. He sat on the throne, with his despised wife at his side, and watched her charm the room.

Finally, the line of those being presented dwindled down to nothing and Sophie moved away to speak with her ladies-in-waiting. Van accepted a goblet of wine and continued to track Hitomi's movement surreptitiously. So involved was he that he barely noted Merle's presence at his side.

"She's handling them better than I thought she would," she said quietly.

He managed not to jump, but she wasn't fooled.

"I taught her to a few of the dances too. Did you know that they have some of the same dances on the Mystic Moon?"

"Do they?" he asked, finally turning to acknowledge his almost-sister.

"Uh huh. They even know the waltz. I overheard the musicians say they were going to play it in the set after this one, and I know for a fact that Lord Eldridge has already asked for the Queen's company during that number."

"Is that so?"

"Do I have to tell you to ask her?" she sounded amused.

"Believe it or not, Merle, I know how to take a hint."

"I wonder. You've been avoiding her." Merle frowned at him, disapproval written all over her face.

He sighed. "It's complicated."

"You think I don't know that? Still, you were friends once. Don't throw that away." With those parting words, Merle stepped back into the crowd.

What was Merle thinking? He couldn't dance with Hitomi. What would happen if he held her in his arms again? Holding her when she first arrived was difficult enough, knowing that she was mourning for another man and he was married to another woman. He had hoped that those feelings, so long buried, would stay dormant, but they had flared to life the instant she leaned against him. Van was in love with her as much as ever, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.

True to Merle's words, the band moved smoothly into a waltz. He watched dancers pair off, and remembered the feel of Hitomi in his arms. Van placed the goblet aside and, drawn like a moth to the flame, moved across the room to find the Seer chatting with Sir Mikael.

It was a bad decision, he knew that. He would certainly hear about it later from his wife. But still..."Lady Arzas, might I have the pleasure of this dance?"


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: As ever, many thanks to my beta Yahnkehy for cleaning up my typos._

She hadn't expected him to speak to her, beyond the moment of presentation, so hearing him calmly ask her for a dance rattled her. Her momentary reaction- to refuse- was gone just as quickly as it came when she looked into his brown eyes.

They were Van's eyes. Not Lord Van, the distant and formal king, but Van, the emotionally awkward fifteen-year-old boy she had loved beyond all reason.

She had placed her hand in his before she knew quite what she was doing.

They moved among the other dancers easily, his hand perfectly fitted to the curve of her waist. Van moved with the air and confidence of an expert swordsman, leading her effortlessly, and the thought crossed her mind that he danced the same way he fought.

Only when he tilted his head in confusion did she realize she had spoken aloud.

"Is that bad?" His voice, faintly puzzled, washed over her and tugged her from her reverie.

She fought back a blush. "No. You move gracefully; that's all I meant. It's not a bad thing."

She stared over his shoulder, embarrassed by his scrutiny, as they whirled around the room.

"Hitomi... we were friends, weren't we?"

She blinked. "Yes, of course."

"I haven't been a very good friend to you these past few weeks. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, sir. You've been busy," she stated, remembering Merle's training and hoping the formality would quell the desperate racing of her heart.

He looked like he had swallowed something foul. "_Sir_. Don't call me that, Hitomi, when it's the two of us," he pleaded, and she realized she had somehow hurt him.

"It's my turn to apologize then," she said contritely. "I'm sorry, Van. This whole court thing has my nerves on edge."

He leaned closer to her and said in a low tone, "Mine, too." He smiled warmly at her then, for the first time since her return to Gaea, and she felt her stomach doing lazy flops.

She couldn't help but smile back. He'd always had that effect on her.

The song ended then, and the dancers drifted away into new pairings. Before she could step back, he tightened his grip on her hand. "Have lunch with me tomorrow? A man should always make time for his friends."

Friends. Of course, that's all they could be. That's all she _wanted_ them to be. "I'd love to," she replied, smiling softly, feeling that something had been settled between them.

He released her hand then, and with one final look he drifted away, choosing another dance partner. She watched him from the sidelines for a few minutes, before deciding to find Merle.

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After the opulence of the previous night, Hitomi dressed simply in a white day gown free of adornment, her pendant and wedding band the only jewelry she wore. She had been in the process of tying back her hair when the maid knocked, so she left it alone, trailing over her shoulder and down her back.

The maid led her to a small room tucked at the end of a long hallway. Hitomi wasn't sure what to expect, but the room instantly calmed her. It was sunnier than the majority of the rooms she'd frequented, several large windows opened to let the streaming light in. The table was set with a simple lunch spread, and Van was already seated, his brow furrowed as he studied the paper in his hand. There was a stack of similar parchments beside his plate, and she could see the top one was stamped with the royal Fanelian seal.

_Does he never get a break_ ? she wondered.

He looked up to see her standing by the door, and his expression instantly cleared. "Good afternoon," he greeted her, standing from his chair until she was seated.

"This looks delicious, Van. Thank you."

He smiled and pushed the stack of paper over to her. "The accounting for your estate," he said by way of explanation.

"About that... Van, I don't _need_ an estate. I don't even know what to do with one."

"Hitomi, have you tried to return to the Mystic Moon?" He glanced up from his plate, again wearing the unreadable mask of kingship.

"I... yes. Nothing happened."

"It's possible you might be here on Gaea for good. I don't think you'd be pleased about accepting the support of the Crown; therefore, you need an income."

"I can get a job, can't I?"

"I wasn't aware you were a skilled laborer," he said, pouring wine from a jug into her goblet. She had the vague feeling that he was amused by her protests.

"I can learn," she replied, but it sounded unconvincing even to her ears.

"Hitomi. You helped save Gaea. You're a savior to the people. If the only thing I can do to show our appreciation is give you a meaningless title and a bit of land, please let me do that." His gaze was so earnest that she had to bow her head to hide the blush creeping over her cheeks.

"Van... "

"Arzas is a nice place. I thought you liked it?"

She blinked, paused with the goblet halfway to her lips. "I've been there?"

He did not look at her as he said, "It's where the light left us, the first time you came to Gaea."

The hands holding the goblet trembled a little, and she put it down before wine could slosh out. "I see. Thank you, Van."

He just nodded, so she turned her attention back to her lunch.

They ate in silence for several moments, Hitomi becoming increasingly nervous as the lull stretched on. Her arm bumped the stack of papers as she reached for her wine, sending them cascading to the ground.

She and Van both leaned down to reach for them. She watched as the pendant tucked under his tunic swung out, glittering in the stream of sunlight. They both froze as they focused on the shard, swinging back and forth between them. With rough movements, Van grabbed the chain and shoved it back beneath his shirt while Hitomi gathered the scattered papers.

He still wore her necklace. That was something she hadn't suspected, although looking back, he'd also been wearing it on the day she arrived as well. She'd been too distraught to think anything of it at the time. Had he been wearing it every day for all these years?

What did that signify?

She risked a look at Van, wondering what was running through his mind. His eyes were downcast, watching his plate as he ate methodically, but the tips of his ears were red. She found it endearing, and for some reason, knowing he was just as uneasy in her company put her at ease. They'd both grown up and grown apart, but beneath it all, he was still Van, the boy with the big heart and abandonment issues, who loved his country and his people and hated mortal combat.

"Van," she spoke quietly.

He looked up, his hand poised halfway between his plate and mouth.

"I didn't ask to come to Gaea," she said, "but I'm glad I'm here."

He smiled at her, not the polite, disinterested smile of a king, but the sincere, warm smile that had once warmed her down to her toes. "I'm glad, too."

Conversation flowed easier after that. He spoke of the hard years to rebuild Fanelia, the process made difficult by the loss of the entire royal treasury. Centuries of history, knowledge, jewels, treasures- all had been lost in the burning of the kingdom. The archaeologist in Hitomi mourned for the loss as the woman wept, surreptitiously brushing away tears as he described how he'd fought to have a statue erected for Balgus and the other Samurai who fell in the battle.

"He was proud of you," she stated.

He smiled wanly. "I hope so. I've tried to do as he would have wanted."

"You've done a marvelous job," she reassured. "Fanelia is prospering and there's peace on Gaea."

"Maybe not for long," he frowned, leaning back a little. Somewhere during the conversation, they'd both moved their chairs closer, so they sat almost side by side.

"What do you mean?"

"Have you had any visions recently?" he asked abruptly, pinning her under his inquiring gaze.

She bit her lip and looked away. "No," she lied softly. Jason's scream echoed through her mind and she squeezed her eyes closed.

He reached around her, his hand gently cupping her chin and forcing her to face him. She rapidly blinked, clearing away the moisture that had started to form. "Hitomi... please. If you've had any visions of Gaea at all, will you tell me?"

"I haven't had any visions of Gaea. I promise."

"Fair enough," he said, releasing her and staring out of one of the open windows. He looked a thousand miles away.

"Are you expecting war?" she asked, touching his arm softly to bring him back.

"...I hope not," he answered, turning back to her, "but I don't see how it can be avoided for much longer."

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Sir Francis Lacour looked up as the door to the inn room opened and a slight figure slipped in. "Well?" he asked abruptly.

"It's as you said, sir. King Arnulf is furious that the Seer has returned to Fanelia and has ordered for her to be removed."

"Murder?"

"No, sir. He wants her to be countered but ultimately unharmed. I think he plans to have her for himself," the speaker fidgeted.

"I see. You delivered these orders to Queen Sophie yourself?"

"No, sir. The King asked me to send word through the alternate routes."

"He doubts your loyalty?"

"I don't believe so, sir. Only every now and then he doesn't want anyone to see me with the Queen, so the information can't be traced, see?"

"Indeed." More fool, the King. If he had any sense whatsoever, the larger orders would have fewer links. Passing the message five or six times meant five or six people to report straight back to Lacour.

"Will that be all, sir?"

He gave a sharp nod, and the informant slipped back out into the warm Fanelian day.

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Sir Guy Courtenay put down the quill and rubbed his hand over his face. A small smear of ink adorned one cheek, and his blunt fingers were stained with splotches and drips. He'd been pouring over the book all morning, and the figures weren't changing. A large portion of the treasury was missing.

The sinking feeling he'd had ever since he first noticed the discrepancy had spread to every inch of his being. He dreaded having to report this to the Privy Council and the king. He wondered miserably if they would have his head for it.

No, no. Lord Van was a fair man. He wouldn't execute someone for being the bearer of bad news. Still, someone had been stealing from the treasury, and he had no idea how it had been accomplished. The amount of gidaru missing couldn't have been moved easily, and the books had matched just last week. Sometime within the last seven days, someone had accessed the treasury and made off with just over a million gidaru that had been earmarked for training a new defensive force. That money couldn't be easily replaced- Lord Van himself had been opposed to the tax that had collected the majority of it. The people couldn't afford higher taxes, and there was no country on Gaea that would loan money for raising a new army- defensive or not.

Sir Guy mopped his damn brow with a cloth. The stack of invoices stared up at him. Even with the recent court presentation, the vast majority of them were from Queen Sophie. He'd pleaded with Lord Van to have her spending curbed. It seemed, now, with the missing money, he could have to ask for the Queen to be given a tight allowance. He swallowed hard. He'd managed thus far to avoid becoming the Queen's enemy but it looked like it would happen after all, and soon. The Queen wasn't going to appreciate having the purse strings tightened, and she would find a way to make him pay. Sir Guy was sure of it.

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Queen Sophie Cesar de Fanel sat in the temple, staring straight ahead as she heard someone approach her from behind. She waited patiently as the veiled woman knelt beside her, lighting some incense before bowing her head piously.

Perhaps a minute passed in silence before the woman whispered, "The dragon shall fall."

"His blood shall nourish the multitudes," she replied in a low murmur.

"I have orders," the other moved swiftly to business, the code words having been exchanged.

"I am ready."

"The Seer is a concern. She must be neutralized for a time, but unharmed."

"Understood," her lips curved into a dangerous looking smirk. Finally, she'd get to deal with the bitch from another world. It irked her slightly that she could not kill the freak outright, but she understood the worth of a Seer to their plans. She'd be safe... for the time being, at least.

"He asks that the amount be increased by ten percent before the third moon."

"So soon?" That was surprising. She had understood that it was meant to be a gradual draining of the coffers.

"He fears the Seer's influence, Your Majesty."

"Oh, alright," she snapped crossly, her knees starting to ache from kneeling at the altar. "It better be worth it."

The other woman inclined her head but said nothing.

"Is that all?"

"For the time being. We'll meet again at the arranged time," she pushed herself up and walked swiftly away. Sophie heard the footsteps echoing in the deserted temple.

Finally the plans were in motion, and soon, she could get the hell out of this forsaken country and back to civilization. Ten years was a long time to wait, but she'd endured. Several more months were of no consequence.

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Merle stalked the halls, trying to find a trace of Lord Van. None of the servants she'd come across had seen him, and his counselors were conspicuously absent. She was getting ready to tear the castle down herself, starting with the chamber the Queen's maids shared just because their simpering annoyed her, when she saw Hitomi exiting a room at the end of the hallway.

"Hitomi! Have you seen Lord Van?" she called, rushing forward to catch her friend.

Hitomi turned when her name was called and smiled. "He's in there," she gestured to the room she had just quit, before giving a little wave and moving down the hall.

"Figures," Merle grumbled before ducking into the small study.

He was seated at a table, the remains of lunch still spread around, and a distant expression on his face. Merle groaned. She knew that look. He was worried about Cesario again.

"Snap out if it, Lord Van. You've done all you can."

He blinked, then frowned. "Not all, Merle." He inclined his head towards the window. She peered out and saw the temple in the distance. "Right now, my _beloved_ wife is in there, plotting the downfall of my country. If she's brought up on charges of treason, her father attacks. If we let her plot, her father attacks. If we block her attempts, her father will figure out that we're on to him and guess what he'll do? He'll attack." He brought a fist down on the tabletop so hard that the dishes rattled. "Our military is small, our treasury is smaller, our people are taxed. I wonder how much longer we can hold out."

She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "You're not sleeping again."

He shook his head, strands of his dark hair falling free of the leather tie.

"Ask Hitomi to help," Merle suggested. "She can use her visions to help you-"

"No," he interrupted, "I won't do that. I've asked her to tell me if she has any visions regarding Fanelia, but I can't ask her to be a weapon for us. I did that once, years ago, and it... it was a bad idea, that's all."

"I understand," she said quietly.

They remained there quietly, staring out at the temple, until Sir Guy Courtenay's miserable face peeked around the frame of the heavy door.

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Hitomi cut through the gardens, taking the quickest path she knew of to reach the forest. She needed some time to sit and think, and knowing that Merle and Van were together meant two less people who might make a demand on her time.

She deftly avoided any branches or shrubs that might snag her skirt, having become adept at navigating the area in the long dresses Merle insisted upon. She missed the simplicity of track shorts and T-shirts, but when in Rome- or Fanelia- it was best to blend in as much as possible.

Finally reaching her desired destination, she sank down to her knees, unmindful of the possibility of grass stains on her white gown. She might only have a little while before Merle came hunting for her, and she wanted this time for herself.

"Hello again, Jason," she said softly, looking up into the sky, to the Mystic Moon although she knew it only held his body. "It's been three months now since you left me, and in a few days I'll have been on Gaea for the same. I told Van today that I was glad I was here, and I am. It's easier somehow, without all the constant reminders of you and our life together."

She laughed a bit at that. "I say together, but we weren't really. You were in America, and I was everywhere but. I feel so guilty about that. Maybe if I had been with you, it wouldn't have happened. Maybe if I had loved you a little more, or given you the children I knew you wanted... maybe then..."

She bowed her head then, and the tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped from her jaw. "I miss you so much. I can't sleep at night and then I wake up after just a few hours, looking for you. Isn't that odd, considering we spent most of our time apart? I never had trouble sleeping before."

"I saw it, you know," she confessed, wiping her eyes. "I saw the whole thing and I wish to God I hadn't because it keeps playing through my mind again and again like a bad movie. I keep waiting for it to go away, and I keep waiting for this ache to fade, but it doesn't. Not really. If I weren't here with Merle taking care of me... I don't know what I'd do. I love you so much. I know you want me to go on, and I'm trying, I really am, but I feel so guilty for trying, like I'm betraying you."

She closed her eyes and listened to the birdsong and the call of the wind, until she heard Merle's voice calling her name from the edge of the forest.

"I'm coming," she called back, bidding Jason a silent farewell.

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Van stared at the Privy Counselors and they stared back, dumbfounded.

"What do you mean, gone?" shouted the Duke of Monrath, his enormous grey mustache quivering.

"How is this possible?" inquired the Earl of Hutchens, his eyes darting from Van to the Lord Treasurer. "Explain!"

Sir Guy trembled under Hutchens' powerful glare but managed to stutter, somewhat coherently, "Sometime between the twenty-first and this morning, an unprecedented amount of gidaru was taken from the royal treasury. The accounts balanced on the evening of the twentieth and are checked every seven days."

"Who had access to the treasury?" Lord Vargas von Kiel peered suspiciously around the room, a red flush creeping up his thick neck.

Sir Francis tilted his head to the side, considering. "Other than Lord Van and Sir Guy, only Sir Mikael and the Duke of Monrath had access to the treasury."

Monrath bristled at the suspicious glares sent his way, while Sir Mikael calmly kept writing, the scratch of his quill the only sound in the room for several seconds. He finished whatever he was working on, sprinkled it with sand, and moved it carefully to the side, saying, "The missing gidaru means we no longer have the means to train the newest recruits. This leaves quite the hole in Fanelia's defenses."

"I'll train them myself," Monrath volunteered gruffly, placing his fist over his heart. "I'm not the warrior that my brother was, but I can at least keep the young pups from stabbing themselves with their own swords."

Van nodded gravely. "We accept your service, Lord Monrath. Meet with General Misa later today so you can get started as soon as possible." He gazed out of the window to his left, seeking and finding the form of his wife, seated among courtiers in the courtyard. "The sooner the army is trained, the better."


	6. Chapter 6

Sir Francis, Sir Mikael, and Van met in the only place they knew to be free of spyholes and easily bribed maids- Sir Francis's rooms, which he kept outside of the castle, as opposed to the little used chambers he had been issued inside.

"I have estimated there to be three links in the latest route of information. The first reported to me. The second and third have not, nor has the Queen, obviously, so we can safely say she has at least two loyal lackeys in the palace. Arnulf's other plans rely on having someone on the Privy Council, so it's also safe to say that whomever _that_ is was the one to arrange the theft of the treasury, and may also be link two or three. However, if Arnulf were brighter, they'd be disposables- maids, laundresses, and the like."

"So you believe that to be so?" Sir Mikael asked.

Sir Francis pursed his lips. "No. Arnulf is mad about power. I believe it makes him feel superior to have one of Lord Van's men working for him."

"The Privy Council, then," Van agreed with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. One of his trusted advisors was working against him. But whom?

"I have checked, and Sir Mikael's treasury key remains in it's hiding place, undisturbed. The others-"

"_My_ treasury key?" Sir Mikael's eyebrows rose as he stared at Lacour. "But it's-"

"Behind the third loose stone in the hearth of your rooms, I know. That your fire is extinguished the hour before any treasury visits is a dead give-away, Roth. You really should know better."

"Damnation," Sir Mikael said miserably. "I thought that would stump you for sure."

"Try again, old friend," Sir Francis consoled, giving him a congenial thump on the shoulder. "Anyway, as I was saying, Courtenay is a stuttering idiot, but he's also very anal and has that key on him at all times. He probably cuddles it on cold nights to keep it warm, so I doubt he'd leave it unattended for any period of time. I've been unable to determine anything regarding Monrath's. And your own key, Lord Van?"

"It should be in my safe. I haven't needed it for so long that I haven't checked."

"Do that, and soon," Sir Francis advised. "If it's the king's own key that's missing, we could have a larger problem on our hands."

Van nodded, his expression intense.

"What news of the latest order from Cesario, Lacour?" Sir Mikael inquired, pouring several fingers of whiskey into three glasses and passing them around.

"Arnulf's scared. The Seer's presence was something that he couldn't count for, but he's determined to take her as his own."

"Like hell!" Van slammed his glass down on the lacquered table, the amber liquid sloshing over the rim and wetting his hand. Sir Mikael quietly fished out a handkerchief and passed it to an irate Van. "Hitomi is under our protection. He'll not get his hands on her so long as I take breath!"

"I have no intention of allowing the Seer to be taken," Sir Francis replied smoothly. "Someone will be trying very shortly to neutralize her, however, so care must be taken. Currently, everyone assigned to the Seer is one of your men, but I suspect that the culprit will try to assign someone new- or several someones, if they've got the brains that God gave an aardvark. We must be on alert for such a circumstance, and be prepared to let the attacks go through with it."

"What the hell are you talking about? If someone's going to hurt Hitomi-"

"Lord Van, the Lady Arzas is under your protection and therefore ours," Sir Mikael soothed. "Of course we will do everything in our power to keep her safe, but we can not catch the culprit if we do not let them incriminate themselves."

Van's hand tightened around the glass, his knuckles white. Sir Francis gave it a significant look, waiting for Van to glance down. When he realized how tightly he was gripping it, he sighed and pushed the glass aside. "What sort of attack do you expect?"

"Poison, most likely, non-lethal of course, since he's ordered that she is to be kept alive, although kidnapping is not out of the realm of possibility."

"I want a taster assigned to her."

"Won't that look suspicious?" Sir Mikael's forehead furrowed as he tried to cover all the options.

"We can have a pair posing as kitchen girls sample anything that goes out, so they won't be traced to the Seer. Of course, that still leaves the serving girls. Can we warn the Seer not to take anything brought by a girl other than her own?"

Van sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I'd rather not worry her, but if it becomes necessary, I'll warn her."

"Lord Van," began Sir Mikael hesitantly, "regarding the Seer... what exactly is the relationship between the two of you?"

Van kept his voice even and his eyes on the table. "She is in love with her husband, Roth, and I am a married man."

"If there were a child..."

Van's head jerked up, his gaze blazing. Sir Mikael quailed under the weight of the stare and swallowed the rest of the statement, but Sir Francis continued where the Principle Secretary left off. "If there were a child, even an illegitimate one, the people would know that the lack of an heir is the Queen's failure and not yours. The Lady Arzas is popular with the people, and they want to know their king is capable of continuing the royal line."

Van continued to glare at his Counselors but said nothing.

"There has been talk, Lord Van," Sir Mikael explained gently.

"Again?" Van ground out. "There was _talk_ the first time, which is how I ended up with that traitorous wife to begin with! Had the people and the Council been content to wait just another few years, perhaps she wouldn't have- She just needed more _time_, damn it, and none of you would let me give it to her! You were more concerned with idle tongues that with the happiness of the lives you were meddling with, so listen well, because I will only say this _one_ more time. She is in love with her husband, and I am a married man- _thanks to you_."

The two Counselors sat, stunned, as the king shoved his chair backwards and stalked out of the room. The slamming of the door was the only sound.

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Merle sighed as yet another meeting with the head housekeeper and cook droned on. This duty was supposed to fall to the Queen, but Sophie disdained anything resembling work, and had foisted it off on Merle the first chance she got. "Oh, but dear, Merle _likes_ to feel useful," she had simpered to Lord Van, before shooting a poisonous glance in her direction. She should have refused on that alone, except the weeks when Sophie actually took care of the domesticities were among the most miserable of Merle's life. There had been a shortage of clean linens, several of the washing tubs developed leaks and had not been re-pitched, somehow all the soap – _all_ of it!- went AWOL, and they'd eaten borsch for a week straight because the only food crop that had been purchased was beets. So Merle took on the job and dealt with the thrice-weekly meetings, but at least there was always soap enough for a nice long soak when she'd had enough.

Finally, she was able to approve the menus, after adding a fish course to a banquet for visiting dignitaries, and sign off on the sundries list, which concluded her duties for at least two more days. She leaned back in the hard chair and gave a good long cat-stretch to work out the kinks in her shoulders.

"Long meeting?" Sir Francis said from where he leaned against the door frame.

"Mmm. Yeah," she muttered, rolling her neck from side to side. Lacour was the only one who was able to creep up without her sensitive hearing alerting her. She'd often asked him how he managed it, only to receive a sardonic smile and no real answer.

"Question for you," he said easily, dropping down in the chair recently vacated by the head cook. "When Lord Van wanted to marry the Seer, did he plan on remaining King?"

She blinked a few times, taken aback by the odd question. "Of course. Lord Van loves Fanelia, and Hitomi does as well. Why would you ask?"

There was a melancholy look on his face that she'd never seen before. He looked almost defeated as he heard her answer.

"Sir Francis?"

"So it _was_ her he loved. I'd wondered."

Too late, Merle realized she'd been tricked. "That was rude, Sir Francis! You could have just asked!"

"Had I, would you have told me?" His light grey eyes glittered, and she forced herself to concede the point.

"Probably not, but still! It's Lord Van's place to share his business with you, not mine!"

"I'm afraid Lord Van thinks he's already shared quite enough with me today as it is." With that puzzling statement, he rose and left the room, ignoring her protests.

When she reached the door, only moments after him, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Gah!" Merle screamed, stamping her foot and sending two passing serving girls fleeing around a corner in their hurry to get away. "That fool took my reports!"

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"Lord Van, do you-"

"There you are sire, can-"

"Is now a good time to-"

So many people, always wanting a piece of him. He rebuffed them all, in his temper seeing only hands that wanted to grab him and hold him down. He pushed through the outer gardens of the castle, knowing that if he went back inside he would surely get stuck in a cramped study listening to a litany of important things that needed to be decided for the good of the kingdom. Right now, Van didn't give a damn about the kingdom.

As soon as he was in a deserted area of the grounds, he flexed his back muscles, unfurled his wings, and launched into the sky.

There was nothing up here to hold him down. He savored the solitude that flying allowed almost as much as he did the actual act of soaring. Although, if he were perfectly honest, his ideal flight would have included one woman from the Mystic Moon, clutched in his arms as they raced through the sky, dodging clouds and dipping low to skim the ground before ascending again. The tightness in his chest intensified at the thought because although she was here, he'd never be able to have that imagined perfect flight, because in his fantasies she _loved_ him, and _that's_ what made it so wonderful. It wasn't just her nearness, but their closeness in every sense of the word.

He missed that melding of minds more than he had ever missed anything.

His mother used to tell him that it was better to know love and lose it, than to never experience it. Right now, as he whipped through the sky with stinging eyes, he had to say that was the biggest load of crap he'd ever heard. Anything, _anything_ had to be preferable to this pain.

He flew for well over an hour, doing his best to lose himself in the sky. When he reluctantly admitted to himself that it just wasn't possible, he steered back towards the castle. He'd make a landing on the roof, in hopes of having a few more precious minutes to pull himself together before resuming the mantle of duty.

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Hitomi's activities with the court kept her busy, although she never quite felt like she had gotten her bearings around the flatterers and meddlers of Queen's Sophie's entourage. So far, she had remained thankfully free of the Queen's presence, although often Sophie would call Merle away right when Hitomi needed her the most. Other than that annoyance, the time passed pleasantly enough. She continued to have lunch with Van at least once a week, sometimes more if he could manage it, although she had the feeling that something was bothering him, something he wouldn't speak about. She didn't want to pry- after all, she understood better than anyone that some topics were too intensely personal- so she had just tried, as subtly as she knew how, to let him know that she was available if he ever needed a friend. Still, even though they had their weekly meetings, there was a distance between them, which was why Hitomi was surprised one morning to find the knock on her door had come from Van himself.

She pushed her breakfast tray away in surprise and stood up. Van was smiling, a rare enough occurrence in and of itself, and waving a cream colored envelope. Her eyes flickered from it back to his face, waiting for him to say something.

"Millerna's coming," he stated simply.

"Really? Oh Van, that's wonderful! Dryden, too? And Allen and Celena?" She clasped her hands in front of her, overjoyed at the thought of seeing her childhood friend once again.

"Yes, and yes. Celena won't be able to make the trip, however- she's in her last stages of pregnancy and needs to stay close to home. She's hoping to plan a trip after the baby's born."

"A baby," she replied, her smile growing even wider. "How lovely for her. I can't wait to see her again, and the others! When will they be here?"

"Next week. Just between us," he confided, "I think Millerna schedules her visits for when Sophie will be in Cesario."

Hitomi bit back a grin. "Is that so?" she said blandly, thinking Millerna would be sure to have some strong opinions on the spoiled Queen. "She won't be here, then? I hadn't heard anything about a trip."

He leaned against the wall, his hair tousled by early morning sword practice. "She always spends a month in Cesario during the summer. She claims Fanelia is too warm for her and she needs a more temperate climate. Her women started packing this morning, so if you're smart, you'll stay out of the way. She's got the poor things running all over the castle and the whole place is in an uproar."

"I see. I had planned to take a walk this morning; I'll make it a longer one than normal."

"I'll go with you," he volunteered suddenly. "When will you be ready?"

"Ahh... half hour?" she guessed, surprised. Van never came walking with her, and didn't his duties take the better part of the morning?

"I'll be back then." And he was gone, as suddenly as he had come.

She rushed to bathe and dress, choosing light pants and a simple shirt, since in the forest she wouldn't be under the watchful eye of courtiers. She had just finished tying her hair back in a ponytail when Van's knock sounded at the door once more.

He led her to the closest exit, dodging the multitudes of rushing courtier and servants in their path. Several of the girls were in tears, and Hitomi observed the tightening in Van's jaw every time they passed another.

"Are you all right?" Hitomi asked him tentatively.

"Fine. Just wondering how many new maids we're going to have to hire this year to replace the ones Sophie keeps running off." He spoke without rancor, but there was tension in his shoulders and back. "Fanelia's not so large that we won't eventually run out of people for the position."

The realization hit Hitomi so suddenly that she misstepped and had to steady herself with a hand on the wall. She had realized that Van's marriage was of political origins, and that he was not in love with his wife, but she had never considered that he might actively dislike the Queen. It made sense, however. When had Van ever condoned the type of behavior that she herself had witnessed from the Cesarion Queen? How awful for him, to have to live with a woman of that nature, to be expected to produce and raise children with such a person. She had a sudden vision of a slender young towheaded boy, his thin shoulders hunched while majestic pearly wings stretched wide on either side of him. The boy raised his head and his eyes met hers- beautiful brown eyes, just like Van's.

His son. She was seeing Van's son with Queen Sophie.

"Hitomi?"

She was pulled from her stupor by his voice. She glanced up and noticed that he was looking back over his shoulder, several steps ahead of where she stood with one bracing hand still against the rough wall.

"Sorry... I just... " She pushed herself away from the support and wiped her sweaty hand on her pants.

"Are you well?"

"Fine. I just got distracted for a moment."

"A vision?" The concern was apparent on his face.

"Not exactly," she blushed, and pushed several errant strands of hair behind her ear. "Let's keep going."

They walked together silently, exiting the castle and passing through the well-manicured gardens. Hitomi preferred the forests, where the vegetation grew wild and free instead of coaxed through cutting and prodding. The treatment seemed too similar to that given to the young people of the court- the subtle shaping of their lives and personality until nothing of the individual was left. It chilled her if she thought about it too much, and she wondered how much longer she could stay here before it happened to her, too.

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"Hitomi?"

They'd been walking for almost an hour with no conversation. She had waited for the tranquility of the forests to take over, but somehow his nearness shattered all that, so she'd just been... walking. Walking and quiet. She groaned inwardly and wished she had graciously, but firmly, rejected his accompaniment.

"Yeah?"

"Do you regret being here? I mean... do you want to go home?"

Her head whipped around to stare at him as he walked beside her. "Have I given that impression?"

"No, but I thought... maybe you wanted to go home but didn't want to say."

She chewed her bottom lip in thought. "No. It's... easier here, somehow, in these places where he never was. If I went back, there would be nothing to return to. I don't regret being here."

He nodded but said nothing, which made her wonder if that was the answer he wanted. Did he want her to leave? Did he resent her being here? "Do you want me to leave?" she asked hesitantly, as her heart tapped out at staccato beat.

He cut his gaze over to her and narrowed his eyes. "Have I given you that impression?" he asked, tossing her own question back at her.

She shook her head and pushed a low-hanging branch out of her path.

"If I didn't want you here, Hitomi, I would say so. I'm glad you're here, really, although I wish it had been under different circumstances."

His words were so reminiscent of something Jason would say that she had to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay. How could he be so nice to her after she had broken his heart? Never mind that it had hurt her as well, shouldn't he be angry that she had gone on again to find happiness with some other guy while he was trapped in a loveless marriage? Shouldn't he bear a grudge that she had walked away from their love and then showed up years later mourning for another man? How selfless could he really be?

"Do you hate me?" she blurted, unable to stay silent any longer.

He froze, his expression so reminiscent of the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights that she would have laughed had the atmosphere not been so charged. In an instance the veneer they had both cultured cracked under the weight of her words, and neither of them had prepared to deal with the fallout.

"I... did, for a while, after... after." He didn't look at her as he confessed, but his voice held a note of regret, which begged her to understand. "It was easier to hate you than to face the reality."

She did understand, but still hearing the words caused the tears she had been holding at bay to slide through her lashes. "Van..."

"I know what I was asking of you at the time was wrong- I can see that now- but it doesn't stop me from regretting what happened. Even now, it's hard for me to see... it should be you on that throne, not _her_."

The venom in his final word was too much for her to bear. She sank down to her knees and bowed her head, keeping her face averted from the truth of his statement.

"I don't hate you, Hitomi," he said, gentler this time, moving a step closer but still keeping an arm's length between them. "You did what you had to do, the same as I did. How can I hate you for that?"

"It was so hard," she mumbled around her tears, "So hard to say no. Afterwards, I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I would have flunked out had Yukari and Amano not done my homework. Even though it was the right thing to do, I still regretted it because it meant I lost you, and you were the only thing in either world that I wanted to keep." She turned her face up, to meet his eyes and the reality of their choices all those years ago. The anguish on his face mirrored the expression that had haunted her dreams for years, a juxtaposition of past and present, but the illusion was shattered as he reached out and grasped her hand in his own, the warmth grounding her and pulling her firmly to the here and now.

She allowed him to help her to her feet, and was surprised when he did not relinquish the hold once she was steady. He pulled a linen handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her free hand.

"At your service, madam," he quipped gently, and she gave a strangled laugh, moping her face with the cloth.

They resumed their walk quietly, Hitomi feeling more connected to Van than she had since their breakup, her fingers gently intertwined with his.


	7. Chapter 7

Sir Mikael tapped his fingers on the table, agitated, as he perused the approved housekeeping reports that Lacour had swindled from Merle. Sure enough, a number of new maids had been hired, including five girls assigned to the Lady Hitomi. Two of them were Lacour's, although true to form, the spymaster had refused to tell him _which_ two, so he was stuck trying to investigate all of them. The King had been adamant that neither Hitomi or Merle were to be worried by the current situation, unless it was absolutely necessary, so he was unable to speak to Merle about the placement. Maybe he could beg Lacour to do it- it wouldn't look odd if he popped up with strange questions. People were used to it by now. Besides, he was the only one, other than Lord Van, who could get anything out of the cat-woman.

More aggravating than the kitchen girl situation was the missing key. The King had confirmed shortly after their meeting that it was his key that had most likely been used in the treasury heist. It was missing from the personal vault that was in his bedchamber. That narrowed down the list of potential thieves, as very few people had access to the King's sleeping quarters, but that person could have passed the key off to any number of individuals who could then use it to access the treasury. Still, it was a start, and if they could discover the key pilferer, there was a chance they could catch whomever was draining the treasury.

He sighed heavily and pounded his fist against the table before dropping his head into his hands. Someone was doing their best to bring Fanelia to its knees, and although everyone know who was behind the attacks, proving it was a totally different case. How a King could be totally open in his intentions while still leaving no trace on his plots was unfathomable to him. But what was even more mind-boggling to the aging Counselor was the reasons behind the attacks. What reason could King Arnulf have for wanting Fanelia so badly?

Sir Mikael knew Fanelia's standing in the eyes of other Gaean countries. Even after Lord Van had helped save the world from the Zaibach Emperor's madness, Fanelia was considered backwoods, primitive, a simple farming country that had none of the glamor or opportunity of its allied nations. So why did Arnulf want it so badly?

"Want what?" came the gravelly voice from the open doorway.

Roth looked up to see Sir Francis leaning against the doorframe, amused grey eyes studying him intently.

"Pardon?"

"You were talking to yourself, I assume. You said, 'Why does he want it so badly?' I could wager a guess, I suppose, but it seemed simpler to just ask."

"Ah. Arnulf. Fanelia. I just can't figure it out. It doesn't add up."

"I see," Sir Francis crossed the room and folded his tall frame into one of the leather armchairs. "I can only assume he's running low on some resource that Fanelia could supply."

He thought about the export logs, his brow wrinkling as he considered the possibilities. "Wood? Fanelia is plentiful in forests and timberland."

"Maybe. If he needed stone, there are far better countries to turn to- smaller ones as well, so we can rule that out."

"There's food, too, I suppose. We've got quite a bit of farmland, although I am unaware of any problems Cesario might have in feeding its populace."

Sir Francis considered. "I've not heard of any famine, and I have several agents who are in a position to know. But..."

"But what?"

"If Arnulf is after food, perhaps it's not his people he would be feeding."

"What on Gaea are you going on about? Who else would... _no_! Not his army!"

Sir Francis's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "That's the only conclusion that makes any sense- this is a country of farmers and agriculture. But if he needs Fanelia's food supply to power his army, what the hell is he planning?"

Sir Mikael rose from his chair and gathered the reports. "We need to bring this to Lord Van's attention."

"Agreed. I'll come with you."

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Van stood on the balcony of his bedchamber, leaning against the railing and letting his eyes wander over the horizon. His irritable wife had just departed, and for the time being he was reveling in the silence. Gone were the scurrying maids-in-waiting, the tearful serving girls, the foppish dandies that surrounded the Queen. The majority of the Court had followed his wife to her homelands, so that only his attendants, Counselors, and the diplomats from other Gaean nations remained. And Hitomi.

He couldn't help it; thinking of the woman from the Mystic Moon brought a slight smile to his face. After the confessions in the forest, the last of the awkwardness between them had disappeared and a bond had begun to develop. Instead of seeing her as "Hitomi, the only woman he had ever loved, who had jilted him", he saw her as "Hitomi, an amazing woman and a caring friend, who also happened to be the only woman he had ever loved, although unfortunately it hadn't worked out". The change of status had been freeing, and he was finally able to look upon her without that small twinge of resentment and regret.

Merle had laughed and patted his arm, congratulating him on "finally getting over it and growing up", although how she had known when he hadn't said a word was a bit puzzling and not a little vexing. He wondered if maybe Hitomi had said something to her, but when he asked, his childhood friend had just rolled her eyes and muttered something about dense men and women's intuition before skipping from the room. Van could barely believe it- when was the last time Merle had _skipped_?

Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled, and he grimaced. He was due for a meeting with the Privy Council regarding the missing funds and the investigation, and later he needed to make sure everything was in place for Millerna and Dryden's arrival the following day. He took one last glance at the gardens below before traveling the maze of corridors to the Privy Chamber.

He was the last one to arrive, and he nodded to the guards posted, indicating that the doors should be closed behind him. As he settled himself at the head of the table, the other Counselors also took their seats.

"Report," he said to the Duke of Varian, who served as the Lord Stewart and was heading the investigation.

The older man stood, his posture straight and sure. "Lord Van, we've currently narrowed down the time frame that the robbery took place to three days. Currently, my men are working on interviewing those who would have been in that area of the palace for any reason. Several others are following up leads on the missing key. Unfortunately, we have nothing definite to report, although we feel we're making progress."

"I see. Misa, what's the state of our defenses?"

"I'm afraid they aren't very good, Lord Van. We currently have men stationed at the most strategic points of entry into Fanelia, but the frontier borders remain virtually unpatrolled. We simply do not have the manpower, and the forces that are deployed could not be recalled quickly in the case of an attack on the capital."

"Monrath, what about the recruits?"

The duke bowed his head regretfully. "I'm sorry, Lord Van. They're nowhere near ready. They're still using wooden swords since we don't have anything better to give them, and we're going through those at an alarming rate- the woodcrafters are having a hard time keeping up. We've got enough leather armor but nothing heavier. There are a few who are hopeless at hand to hand combat- they might be better suited to archery, but I don't have the skills necessary to train them. I wish I had better news for you." The older man looked so dejected that Van bestowed a rare smile on the him.

"You're doing a fine job, Lord Monrath. We'll see if we can find someone skilled in archery to give you a hand, and there are a few woodworkers we used during the Reconstruction that we can call upon to help with the supplies. More blacksmiths will have to wait, I'm afraid, but by the time they're ready for steel I hope we'll have supplies enough for all of them."

He gave Sir Guy a questioning glance, and the Treasurer flipped quickly through his stack of papers before looking up uneasily. The older man started to speak, but Van cut him off with a sharp look.

Other court matters were discussed and the Council eventually dispersed. Sirs Mikael and Francis stayed back at his command.

"Has anything more been discovered?" he asked, his back to the men.

"There have been new girls assigned to the Seer, Lord Van. Some of them aren't Lacour's."

"So they're moving."

"Yes, my Lord."

"And the investigations into the Council? Are they all trustworthy?"

He heard the scrape of a chair as Lacour started his customary pacing. "I have suspicions. Until I have proof, I am loathe to implicate anyone."

Van sighed and pushed his hair back before turning to face the men. "I understand. When will you know more?"

Sir Francis shrugged. "Two weeks, maybe three? It depends on when they make their next move."

"And are they also involved in the plot against Hitomi?"

"If they are working for Arnulf, they would be involved indirectly," Sir Mikael countered.

"Indeed, but my sources had nothing to do with them so it is possible they know nothing of the plot. It's hard to say either way at this point."

"Keep me informed, either way. If Arnulf wants Fanelia for resources, it means he's likely going to launch an attack against another nation before it's all said and done. If that nation is Asturia, I want proof of it before Millerna and Dryden depart."

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Sophie yawned as her father droned on and one, yammering about how Fanelia would be his. Honestly, he was almost as bad as her freakish husband. Always lecturing about stuff no one gave a damn about. Couldn't men ever learn to just shut up?

"Why hasn't that country fallen? I didn't send you there to sit on your ass and drink wine all day! What have you been doing?"

She studied him coolly. His face was red with rage, and a vein in his forehead was protruding more with every bellow. "I'm not your servant. Have you forgotten that I'm a queen now?" She spoke plainly, none of her usual high-pitched coyness evident now.

"Have you forgotten who got you that throne? And for what purpose? Are you totally useless?"

Her eyes narrowed as she raised her chin. "I've done what you've asked. I've bedded the freak to make the marriage legitimate- which, I might point out, was the most disgusting thing I've ever had to do!- and I've made sure that a child was not conceived, even with every Counselor in the kingdom breathing down my bedsheets wondering why. I've had new girls placed in the kitchen to take out the Seer, and I've even helped swindle gidaru from the treasury, even though it meant that I had to get put on an allowance! Worst of all, I've had to be married to that cursed half-human for a decade now, when the original plan for a year or less. So tell me, _Father_, who exactly is the incompetent one?"

His fist swung out and caught her in the jaw, knocking her backwards. She touched her fingertips to it gently. It had been a year since she had seen her father last, a year since he had last raised a hand to her, and she had forgotten how much force he put behind his attacks. She would have a bruise there no matter how soon it was treated.

"You would do well, daughter, to remember your place. That monstrosity that rules Fanelia might not keep you in your place, but by God, when you're here, you'll do as you're told and speak to me with respect."

She gritted her teeth and averted her eyes so he couldn't see the hatred shining in them. "Yes, Father. Forgive me, Father."

Gods, she hated them all. She couldn't wait to see them destroyed, preferably by her own hand. Once the winged bastard and the Seer were out of the way, she could flee to Asturia for amnesty, armed with the documents she'd nicked from her father that proved what it was he planned to do. Then she'd finally be free to live her own life, and Cesario would be hers. She'd waited for ten years to make her dreams a reality; she wasn't willing to wait much longer.

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Merle stalked through the hallways, hell bent on finding her prey. He was here, she _knew_ he was, because Van had just told her they'd been in a meeting together before hurrying off to oversee the preparations for Dryden and Millerna's arrival. She was going to find him and demand answers.

A man came out of the doors leaning to the Privy Chamber, but it was an older man, with a round face and an easy smile. Sir Mikael Roth, _not_ the man she was seeking. Still, she managed to grab his arm as she passed.

"Is he in there?" she asked sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Sir Francis? He should be. Why?" Roth blinked at her in confusion.

"Is there any other exit, besides these doors? Nevermind, of course there is. Damnit!" She dropped Roth's arm and sprinted into the Privy Chamber-

-just in time to bump into something solid and unyielding. She would have pitched over backwards had strong hands not gripped her upper arms and held her steady.

"Is something wrong?" Sir Francis asked urgently, his grey eyes pinning her in place.

She gathered her composure and shook off his grasp. "Damn straight there's something wrong. What the hell is going on around here?"

"Pardon?" He looked genuinely taken aback, and a lock of light brown hair flopped down over his forehead. She resisted to urge to reach out and push it away, telling herself that it was just an act. He was a spymaster after all, therefore he was also a consummate actor. He had to be. It was all just an act on his part, and therefore the butterflies in her stomach weren't real.

Damn the man!

"I want to know what's going on." She frowned up at him and waited.

He hesitated. "I suggest you speak to Lord Van about this, Lady Merle."

"I _have_. He won't tell me, which has me worried that much more."

"I'm sorry, I can't help you." He turned away, his back to her as he prepared to leave the room, and she panicked. If he got out of her sight now, she'd have a hell of a time finding him again, the slippery bastard. He couldn't get away without telling her what he knew. Before she knew quite what she was doing, she tossed her years of training aside and reverted to instinct. She took a short running start, then leaped up on his back, wrapping her arms and legs around him and squeezing tightly.

"What the- get _off_, Lady Merle! Have you gone _mad_?" He spun in an attempt to dislodge her, so she tightened her grip even more.

"Not until you tell me what's going on!"

"I can't!"

She squeezed harder and locked her ankles together around his waist. "Then get used to it," she suggested gleefully.

"The King asked that you not be informed. It was his order!"

"Lord Van's not the one you're going to be carrying through the castle, is he?" she crowed, fighting back a laugh as he spun again. She knew he could easily remove her- she'd seen his martial arts training- yet she also knew that he wouldn't do that to her. She was counting on his inherent chivalry and her closeness to Lord Van to save her.

"You're aware you're asking me to commit treason."

"I'm asking you to help me support a friend. Something up with Lord Van, and I don't like it. How can I help him if I don't even know what's wrong?" She spoke softly, letting her distress for the Fanelian King shine through. She knew that, under his detached exterior, Sir Francis was genuinely fond of Lord Van. He viewed the King as something of a younger brother, although his behavior was always within the bounds of propriety.

Sure enough, he sagged, admitting defeat. "Fine. I'll tell you- but there are some thing I can't discuss, you must understand. I will not betray the King by speaking of the things he explicitly asked me to keep quiet."

"I understand."

"Lady Merle?"

"Hmm?"

"Let go already."

She laughed. "Not on your life. If I let you go, you'll bolt. Get us somewhere private and then we'll negotiate."

"Are you totally daft? We _are_ somewhere private. The Privy Chamber is the most private room in the entire castle," he replied, sounding annoyed. "I modified it myself."

"Fine, but where are the hidden exits?"

"Lady Merle, I can't tell you that!" He sounded scandalized. "Can't you take my word for it that I'm not going to...er... _bolt_?"

She sighed. "I suppose." She loosened her grip, and he crouched down to allow her to drop carefully to the ground. She composed her dress carefully then lowered herself into the chair that he indicated.

He poured two goblets of wine from the jug in the middle of the table. She accepted one, and averted her eyes. Now that she had to face him, the reality of what she'd done was starting to sink in. Amusement fled in the face of encroaching mortification. Ladies did _not_ jump on men, no matter how good of an excuse they had. What would Sir Francis think of her now?

No matter, she told herself. Sir Francis wasn't important right now- Lord Van was, and if having Sir Francis think less of her was the price she had to pay to help Lord Van, she'd gladly pay it.

She ignored the painful palpitations in her chest that the thought caused and folded her hands in her lap demurely.

Sir Francis took the chair beside hers and turned it around to face her. His tall form fit neatly in the space, but she kept her eyes on his finely tooled leather boots.

"Where to begin?" he murmured, then barked out a laugh. "Don't tell me you're getting all embarrassed _now_?"

She cursed the rising flush in her cheeks, so she gulped the wine in her goblet before replying forcefully, "Of course not!" She made herself meet his eyes, and the quick stab of indignation at the amusement in his eyes had her lifting her chin and straightening her back.

His lips curved into an approving smile. "Good girl. Now, how far back to you want to start?"

"Ah... I guess as far back as it goes."

"All right, but you asked for it. We believe the Privy Council was infiltrated by King Arnulf of Cesario, as far back as the Reconstruction. We think it was no coincidence that Queen Sophie was chosen to be Lord Van's consort, and it has been no accident of nature that she's yet to conceive an heir. We suspect, although we have no proof, that she's been working from the inside with several others to bring down the kingdom. Many things have happened over the ten years since the Reconstruction ended, but lately a large amount of gidaru has come missing from the treasury. We no longer have enough money to train an army larger than the skeleton force we currently have- certainly not enough to stave off an invasion by Cesario, if they wish to do so. There have also been orders that the Seer is to be indisposed but ultimately unharmed, since Arnulf wants her for himself. We lack the proof to bring the Queen up on charges of treason, so Lord Van has to continue in a sham of a marriage, which must be no small feat now that the woman he loves is here and appears to be staying for good. Have I forgotten anything? I think that's all of it- the quick version, at least." He slumped a bit in the chair and propped his head on his hand.

Merle had never seen him so unguarded. "Sir Francis..." she started, unsure how to comfort him.

He waved her off. "I'm fine. It's just a bit much when it's said like that."

"Why would Cesario want Fanelia? What do we have that they don't?"

"Food crops. Cesario has little agriculture, and an army needs to eat if they're fighting."

"You think they're going to use Fanelia to feed their army while they... Do you think they're going to invade Asturia?" Her eyes widened as she realized the implications.

"That's what Lord Van thinks, and it definitely makes sense. Asturia is the richest country on Gaea, and if Arnulf got his hands on their ports and treasury, he could have all of Gaea at his feet. If I could just get my hands on proof... rumor isn't good enough." He frowned slightly, obviously concerned about what he viewed as his failure.

"If you haven't found any proof yet, then there hasn't been any to find," she said clumsily, wishing she knew how to comfort him. "But I'm sure Arnulf will slip up sooner or later, and the minute he does, you'll get the proof you need. I have faith."

She stared up at him earnestly, wishing she could convey her assurance through her expression. He sat silently before giving a subtle nod of his head. "Thank you, Lady Merle. And now that you have the information you came for, you should go find Lord Van. I believe he wanted your help with the final preparations."


	8. Chapter 8

Morning arrived, and with it the visitors from Asturia. Fidgeting impatiently and shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Hitomi witnessed the formal welcoming that visiting royals received. Millerna, true to form, gave Hitomi a brief but bright smile before turning her attentions to the ceremony, but Dryden's gaze wandered several times, and he winked at the Seer before receiving his royal welcome. And Allen...

Oh, Allen. He bowed to Van, as handsome as ever, his long hair flowing free down his back. She wondered if he were happier now that Celena was back, if he had been able to face his demons and his past and make peace with them. She sincerely hoped so. She could not love Allen the way he had wished all those years ago, but she genuinely liked and respected the Knight Caeli and wanted him to have someone who could love him as completely as he deserved.

Finally, _finally_ the ceremony was over and she was able to greet her friends. Millerna reached her first and flung her arms around Hitomi. "I'm so glad you're back," the Queen whispered in her ear, and Hitomi squeezed her in return.

Dryden leaned over her hand, kissed it regally, then pulled her into another bone-crushing hug. "How're ya holding up?" he asked her in an undertone. She murmured something about it being easier some days than others, but trailed off as a proud figure, straight of posture and as blinding as the sunrise, moved into her vision.

"Allen," she breathed, before taking an unsteady step forward and into his arms.

"I wasn't sure you'd want to see me," he murmured.

"Of course I do. You're my dear friend. How's Celena?"

He released her gently with a soft smile. "She's wonderful. Happy. She sends her greetings. And you, Hitomi... you look lovely."

"She looks like a woman in that dress," Millerna teased, circling Hitomi to better see the cream colored satin gown.

"Thank you, but I can't take credit for the dress. It was Merle's doing."

"It's wonderful. I wish we had more time to catch up, but we're being pulled into meetings. I'll come to you tonight, all right? We can gorge ourselves on cookies and gossip like teenagers." Millerna squeezed Hitomi's hand before being whisked off by several nervous-looking advisors.

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True to her word, Millerna showed up at Hitomi's bedroom door later that evening, bearing a tray full of delectable desserts and dressed in pale pink silk pajamas.

"So," she said, bouncing a bit on the springy mattress, "how is it to be back?"

"It's wonderful," Hitomi answered honestly, "but I'm still not sure why I'm here. At this point it feels like the pendant brought me here just to save my life- but is it really that simple?"

Millerna's eyes had widened. "Woah, wait. Back up a bit."

"I'm sorry! I'd forgotten you didn't know the whole story."

It was easier telling Millerna than it had been Van and Merle. The passing time had allowed grief's grip to lessen somewhat, and she was able to recount the whole story without shedding any tears. Millerna listened silently to her tale

"Oh, Hitomi. Are you really happy to be here?"

"I am. It's easier here, I think. I'm getting closure on what happened with Van when I was younger, plus there aren't memories of Jason here everywhere I look. Besides, what is left for me to return to on the Mystic Moon? My parents haven't spoken to me in years because I didn't marry a Japanese man, and my brother has his own life. I didn't even get to spend any real time with Yukari and Amano- life just got in the way. I lost my funding and Jason... he's gone."

Millerna passed Hitomi a brownie and bit into one of her own. "I'm going to be nosy now. How are things between you and Van?"

"They're fine. It was awkward at first, but I think both of us really wanted to be friends, so we worked past it."

"And Sophie?"

"She... I don't have much contact with her. Barely any, actually."

"Be glad for that. Our parents thought we'd be good playmates when we were children... what an insufferable brat she was! I almost fell over when word came that Van was taking her as a wife." The Queen flopped backwards, looking more like a teenager at a sleepover than a grown woman and Queen.

"What about you? I'm so glad you and Dryden eventually married!"

"Yeah," Millerna said with a gentle smile. "He was gone for about two years, and during that time, thinking about him and what he said to me before he left drove me nuts. I think I was over halfway in love with him by the time he returned. Isn't that weird? But somehow, it works."

"I'm so glad for you! Dryden's such a nice guy and he really does seem to love you. You deserve that."

"Thanks. It was hard to forget Allen, but you know, it's easy to see now that it wasn't really love. It was definitely a bad case of infatuation. I'm so glad that he understood that better than I did."

"What happened with Allen? Is he married now?"

Millerna laughed. "No, he's not married. He goes around spouting things like, 'I'm married to duty', 'Service is my mistress,' and other equally obnoxious phrases. Poor Allen. He's afraid to let himself be happy, I think. Maybe you can talk to him, get him out of whatever funk he's fallen into. He won't listen to a thing I say on the subject. I've even thought of ordering him to marry. I could pair him up with Eries and they could sit together making dour faces at each other."

Hitomi pulled the heavy quilt across her legs and snagged another cookie. "Oh dear, she's still... that way?"

Millerna giggled at Hitomi's failed attempt at diplomacy. "Eries was _born_ 'that way'. I think our dear mother must have drank nothing but piscus during her pregnancy for Eries to have such a bitter nature."

Hitomi made a face, remembering all too well the sour flavor of the strange fruit. "I haven't had piscus since I've been back. It's probably a good thing- it holds such a sad memory for me."

"Oh?" Millerna rolled over and pushed her wavy blonde hair behind one ear.

"It was so long ago, yet it feels like yesterday somehow. Van was doing some minor maintenance work on Escaflowne and I was sitting there with him- it was when we were in Asturia, right before I went back to the Mystic Moon the first time. Anyway, Van started talking about how he wanted me to stay with him, and I was so happy, but then he said he wanted me to stay so he could use my powers!"

The Queen smacked her forehead with her palm. "Idiot!"

Hitomi nodded vigorously in agreement. "I couldn't help it- I slapped him and ran off. Then I came across Allen and everything started getting a little weird. I realized later that it was probably the Fate Altering machine's doing, but at the time all I knew was that something wasn't right. Allen confessed these deep feelings for me, and then he kissed me and I didn't know what to think. I was so confused, Millerna, and to make it even worse, when I looked past Allen, there was Van. He'd seen the kiss, and he looked so hurt... Anyway, that was the last time I had piscus, and I'm sure the memories would make the fruit taste that much more sour to me."

"It wasn't fair, was it? I mean, we were really just kids then, and we should have been able to have those carefree first loves, but instead everything was so much more intense than it should have been. I mean, what would have happened to Gaea had you and Van not fallen in love? There was never a chance for it to be a casual thing like other girls had." The Queen patted Hitomi's hand in understanding.

"It was hard going back, after that, trying to be a kid again after having the weight of a world on our shoulders." Hitomi drew her knees up and propped her chin on them, tucking the blanket more securely around her. "I wonder if part of that is why I refused Van's proposal. I had finally started to reclaim some normalcy in my life- doing ordinary teenager things- and it had taken so long to get there. I fought hard to be that person again. Maybe I wasn't ready to give it up again so soon."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Why do you still blame yourself? No one else does."

She frowned a bit. "I wasn't aware that I was blaming myself, but I think you're right. I really have been, haven't I? Isn't that foolish?"

Millerna shook her head sympathetically. "It isn't foolish, it's human, although maybe they're the same things."

Hitomi startled a bit at hearing such words coming from the Queen, then smiled. "You're even starting to _sound_ like Dryden. It _must _be love."

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She was sitting alone in the dining room, scraping the last bit of oatmeal from her bowl, when Allen's voice jolted her from daydreams.

"You still wear a ring."

She glanced down where the pale gold of Jason's wedding band shone up from her third finger. "Yes."

"How long has it been?" He moved easily around the table and took a seat by her side.

"Six months," she replied, staring down at the thin metal ring. It had never crossed her mind to remove it. It was simply part of her hand, the same as her nails and the small sun spots that dotted the back of her fingers.

"I'm glad you were able to find happiness, even if it was short-lived." His expression was so sincere that her heart clenched. Poor Allen. Had he ever found any joy of his own?

"Thank you. I wish... Allen..."

He silenced her with one slim finger pressed against her lips. "I am content. I ask for nothing more."

She nodded to show that she understood, and perhaps part of her did. Her lips curved slightly beneath his calloused fingertip.

The loud clearing of a throat from the doorway caused her to jump. Van stood there, looking uncharacteristically disgruntled. Hitomi recalled Millerna's comments regarding Eries' expression and secretly thought that Van might be able to give the Asturian Princess a run for her money.

Allen allowed his finger to linger on the Seer's lips for a moment longer, before he turned to serve himself from the covered dishes.

"Good morning, Van," Hitomi ventured bravely.

"If you say so," came the grouchy reply.

"Is something the matter?"

"No," he said shortly, glowering at the Knight Caeli.

"Good, in that case would you be up for a bit of sparring after breakfast?" The Knight looked unconcerned about the sharp glares that the King was leveling his way. He sipped calmly on some juice and gave Hitomi a dazzling smile.

Van's jaw clenched, but he managed to answer. "10 o'clock."

"I'll be there," Allen snagged a piece of fruit from the bowl in the middle of the table, then stood to leave, letting his hand rest briefly on Hitomi's shoulder before exiting the room.

"Wait a minute, aren't you hungry?" she called after him.

"Not anymore," his cheerful voice drifted back through the room.

Van snarled and bit viscously into a sausage.

"_What_?" Hitomi said, bewildered by Van's behavior and Allen's sudden exit.

"Nothing," the King spat, before stomping from the room after Allen.

She threw up her hands in surrender. "Men!"

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Hitomi found Merle and Millerna peeking into the practice room where Van and Allen were sparring. She had known they'd be here- word traveled surprisingly fast through the palace, and a match between the King and the Knight Caeli would be top gossip for the morning. The clattering, vibrating sound of steel on steel rang through the hall as she approached.

"I was beginning to think I'd have to go find you," Merle remarked, her tail waving lazily from side to side. "They've been at it for ten minutes already."

Hitomi craned her neck to see over Millerna's fluffy hair. "What's this all about anyway? I thought Allen and Van were friends, but this morning at breakfast they were so... antagonistic."

"Testosterone," Millerna replied prosaically. "Like two roosters fighting for control of the farmyard."

Hitomi and Merle turned amazed expressions towards the Asturian Queen.

"What?"

"Since when do you know anything about roosters, or farmyards?" Merle asked incredulously.

Millerna waved a fair, slender hand in dismissal. "You know what I mean."

"But why?" Hitomi murmured, shifting a little for a better view. "I mean, Van's King. It's not like that's going to change if Allen disarms him. It doesn't make any sense."

This time it was Millerna and Merle who exchanged incredulous glances, but said nothing.

They watched quietly as the swords clashed, and several minutes passed before Merle ventured to suggest that they should just go inside, since Hitomi kept edging her aside to get a better view.

Hitomi blushed, but crept in quietly with her friends, to watch the mock-battle.

It was obvious, even to her untrained eye, that Van had continued to train, even as he eschewed war. He met the Knight's thrusts and parries without losing ground, and several times she heard Allen give a grunt of concentration as he blocked one of Van's attacks.

The King's dark hair had come loose from the binding he wore, and it skimmed his shoulders and clung to his damp face as he stepped and spun. His expression was intense, his eyes slightly narrowed as he focused on his opponent. Hitomi wondered if Van was even aware of their presence.

It was like watching a dance. Advance, retreat, spin. Van's agility to Allen's grace. Van's dark good looks to Allen's golden perfection. Van's intensity to Allen's concentration.

How was it that she had ever had a crush on Allen, when Van had been there beside him the whole time?

Granted, she had been only 15, and all 15 year olds are rather slow about such things, but really! Allen was lovely, but Van was worth ten of him. How had it taken her so long to realize it?

She smiled wistfully, thinking of the possibilities. Perhaps she and Van would have had more time to be a couple, had she realized it sooner. They'd had precious few days between the discovery of their mutual feelings and her trip back to Earth.

The clang of metal meeting metal jerked her from her musing. Allen had just barely parried a block from Van, and both men were perspiring from the effort. Van tossed his head slightly to move a dark lock of hair from his eyes, and Hitomi felt a familiar clutch in her lower abdomen.

Her traitorous eyes, independent of her racing brain, scanned the sinewy arms holding the blade, the way his red shirt, damp with sweat, clung to well formed pectoral muscles, trailed down to flat abs, rounded buttocks, hard thighs...

Oh God. Oh no. Of all the Bad Things she could think of, this definitely made the list. Her husband had only been dead for six months, yet here she was, getting turned on by watching her childhood crush wave a sword around.

But Van had been so much more than a childhood crush, and therefore, he was doubly dangerous.

"Are you all right, Hitomi? You're flushed," Millerna's concerned whisper brought her back to herself.

"I'm fine. Just fine. I-"

Allen's sword clattered to the ground as he was disarmed by the Fanelian King. The only sound that could be heard was the men's harsh breathing. Hitomi watched in slow motion as they started to turn their attention to their captive audience.

"I have to go," she blurted out, panicking. She couldn't face Van right now- would he be able to tell?. What would he _think_ of her if he knew?

She rushed out of the room, trembling hands on her flushed cheeks, trying to hide their heat from any observers.

"Hitomi?" Merle called after her, perplexed by the Seer's odd behavior.

From the practice room, Van watched her flee, and threw down his sword in disgust.

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She paced her room, alternately shaking her head to deny the reality, and feeling like she was going to throw up.

She was attracted to Van. There was no denying that slow burn in her belly. She wanted him sexually, which was totally wrong because he was married, and until just recently, she had been too.

What sort of wife had she been, if she could desire another man so soon after Jason's passing? When she and Van had split, she hadn't so much as looked at another man until Jason came along, so why was she standing here now, acting like a cat in heat?

Maybe she had never really loved Jason?

The sudden thought had her sitting down on the cold wooden floor with a thump, before her legs gave out. But no, that wasn't true. She _had_ loved Jason. It hadn't been the sort of love she'd had for Van, there was no denying that. There was none of the flash and burn, but rather it had been warm and comfortable and fulfilling. She had loved him, and she had been happy with him.

But he was gone.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply to clear her swirling thoughts.

She had loved Van deeply, and she had desired him. It was only natural that she might continue to feel some of that desire- after all, he was a very good looking man, and she remembered clearly the bond that they had once shared. It wasn't a betrayal of what she'd had with Jason, because if Jason were here with her now, she knew that such thoughts wouldn't even enter into her mind. But Jason wasn't here, and she was lonely, so it wasn't at all surprising that she would find herself desiring intimacy with someone.

No, wanting a man wasn't a betrayal. After all, it wasn't like she was falling for someone else. It was just her body's reaction, just a physical craving. Nothing more. It was inconvenient that it was Van she was having these feelings for, to say the least, but no matter. She'd deal with it. They'd finally gotten back their easy camaraderie and she was determined that nothing at all was going to spoil it- least of all some unwanted physical urges that she had no intention of following through.

She scooted closer to a wall and tilted her head back against it until her thoughts stilled and her breathing was deep and even.

She supposed she should go find Merle and Millerna, to let them know she was ok and apologize for running off like that. Sooner or later, she would have to face Van again- it might as well been soon while she still had her resolve. She put a hand on the smooth boards to brace her, and the dull golden gleam of her wedding band caught her eye.

She stared at it for a long moment before removing it and turning it over in her fingers. It was just a plain solid band, nothing fancy, but she had loved it, and the man who had given it to her.

Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, she slid the band slowly over the third finger of her right hand. It felt wholly unnatural there, and absolutely right. It was time.

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Van sat perched on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling down into nothingness. His stomach clenched and rolled, and he felt so tense that he was sure he would spontaneously combust if he were faced with any more evidence of history repeating itself.

He hadn't been concerned about Allen's arrival in Fanelia. After all, Hitomi still loved her husband, and she'd even chosen himself over Allen in the end, so there was nothing to worry about. His opinion abruptly changed when he'd stood at the door of his dining room and found Allen's fingertips caressing her lips- and instead of smacking him for his presumption, she'd smiled at him.

Smiled! His fist clenched and he huffed in frustration.

The Knight had touched her repeatedly within his sight. He had no right! Didn't he know that she was in mourning? Had he no respect?

It wasn't that Van was jealous, exactly, it just burned him to see Hitomi fall prey to Allen's charms. Again. Fast work too, she'd been so upset that he'd disarmed the Knight that she'd run off.

He wasn't jealous. He wasn't. He was a married man, so even if Hitomi's affections were centered on him, he wouldn't be free to return them. It was just that...

He sighed. No matter how much he tried to deny it, it was useless. He _was_ jealous. He wanted Hitomi to love him as much as he loved her, as selfish as that was, even though he was in no position to offer her anything. It wasn't fair to either of them, and Van had always been taught that marriage was sacred. He knew other men would sometimes take mistresses, but it wasn't something he'd ever considered, and Hitomi deserved more than to be someone's bit on the side.

She needed a man who would love her, cherish her, and acknowledge her. He could do the first two, but not the third, no matter how much he wished it.

Allen could do all three.

With a strangled cry, he pushed away from the building and launched into the sky, white feathers trailing down behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

Sir Francis was waiting for him when he landed on the roof an hour later.

"It's almost time for your meeting with the Asturian representatives."

"Do I have time to bathe?" He'd come to the roof directly after sparring with Allen and desperately wanted a chance to wash.

The spymaster glanced at the angle of the sun and nodded. "If you hurry."

"Walk with me, " Van said, gesturing to the staircase that led into the palace.

"I have to tell you, Lord Van, that your suspicions regarding Lady Merle were correct."

"She cornered you, huh?" The corner of Van's lips twitched slightly.

Sir Francis looked vaguely embarrassed. "You could say that, yes. Anyway, I informed her of the proceedings as you directed. She believes that is all of it, although she's smart enough that she'll catch on before long. You really should speak to her about it."

Van nodded, wishing he could tell his childhood friend everything, but he knew it wasn't possible. Merle was a steadfast friend, but as his attendant she was in danger, and he wanted to keep her as safe as possible. "Promise me, Lacour, that you'll keep her safe, no matter what happens."

The tall man didn't break his stride as he stared straight ahead. "I would do so even without a promise, Lord Van, but I give you my word."

A thought entered Van's mind, and he tilted his head towards Sir Francis, considering. "What are your feelings towards Merle?"

"My _feelings_?"

"You're stalling." The suspicion blossomed even further.

"I think the Lady Merle is a fine woman, and a sight smarter than the others around this place. She'd make an excellent spy."

Van arched a brow and hid his amusement. "High praise, indeed."

They walked along in silence for several more minutes. Van didn't speak again until they were safely behind the closed door of his bedchamber.

"Are you in love with her?"

Sir Francis narrowed his eyes at the King. "Are you trying to trip me up, Lord Van?"

"I'm asking a sincere question, and I would like a straight answer. Merle's like a sister to me."

"The Lady Merle is a duchess. I would never presume-"

"Forget all that," Van interrupted impatiently. "You know my thoughts on all that stuff. I'm asking if you love her."

Grey eyes considered brown ones for a long minute. Behind them, the door opened as two maids prepared a bath for the King.

"Yes," Sir Francis answered simply. "I do."

"How long?" Van blurted, wondering if he was the most unobservant man alive.

"Since I came to Fanelia. Seven years," Sir Francis admitted.

"Well," replied Van, rocking back on his heels, "Well. Does she know?"

"I sincerely hope not!" came the shocked reply.

"What? Why not?" Van nodded to the maids to acknowledge that the bath was ready, and stripped off his shirt once they had closed the door behind them.

"I don't plan on trying for her, that's why. What do I have to offer a woman like her? With my work, I can't even guarantee I'll be at the dinner table two nights in a row."

"You have more to offer her than those stupid foppish men that are always trying for her. If all Merle wanted was a man at her table, she'd have married years ago. She's looking for a man she can respect, and one who respects her in return." He moved around behind the screen, unlaced his trousers and stepped out of them before lowering himself into the tub with a wince. The bath was steaming and wonderfully soothing against his sore muscles. He wouldn't admit it to Allen, but the fight had been more strenuous than anything Van had done in recent memory. He made a mental note to train harder from now on.

"What makes you think that I even have a chance?" Sir Francis shot back, agitated, as he moved restlessly around the room. His voice was muffled by the screen.

"I don't know. Maybe you don't, but shouldn't you _try_? I never thought you were a coward."

He ducked his head under the water, so if Sir Francis replied, he didn't hear it.

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"What do you mean, you can't read it?" Merle almost dropped the book in shock, but recovered in time to save the heavy tome from smashing onto the perfectly manicured garden lawn.

Hitomi's brow wrinkled in concern. "Apparently I can understand your spoken languages, but not the written languages. It's strange; I remember Yukari and Amano couldn't understand Van, when he first arrived on the Mystic Moon. How odd that I could, but I guess whatever the reason, it doesn't extend to books. I never thought about it before, but it's a problem, isn't it?"

Merle's tail flicked back and forth as she studied the dismayed Seer. "Yeah, I'd say. Well, there's nothing for it then. We're going to have to get you a tutor."

"I'm illiterate," Hitomi said wonderingly, trying out the words. "I'm an illiterate college graduate with no funding. I'm an illiterate widowed college graduate living on _another planet,_ and with no funding. Oh _God_."

"Hitomi?" Wide eyed, Merle leaned over Hitomi, who had flopped backwards on the bench.

"I'm fine," she waved her away, "just a bit of culture shock. Give me a minute."

"We can get you a tutor," Merle repeated, worried by the manic gleam in Hitomi's eyes.

The woman from the Mystic Moon took several deep breaths, then inexplicably began to laugh wildly, her eyes wide and sides heaving.

"Shit, she's finally lost it," Merle breathed, scanning the area frantically for help. A quick glance informed her that they were alone, so she raised her voice, hoping the guards near the doors would be able to hear her. "Anyone? Help!"

Hitomi was taking big gulping breaths between the hysterical peals of laughter and tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. Merle was torn between wanting to stay with her and needing to get help. She gave one last panicked call for help, determined to make a sprint for the guards if no one came.

Thankfully, some one did. She almost sagged in relief when she saw the shock of light brown hair and the lanky form of Sir Francis running through the shrubs, one slender hand pressed against his brow to shield his eyes from the bright sun. "Lady Merle! Are you hurt?"

She gestured to her friend, whose laughter was starting to subside into sobs that shook her entire body. "She just... snapped."

He lifted the Seer into his arms as if she weighed nothing. "Is this the first time she's done it?"

Merle nodded dumbly.

"Then it's taken her long enough."

"_What_?"

"She should have done it a while ago. She's been holding everything in, hasn't she? If you don't bend, sooner or later you break."

She trotted along at his side, unable to match his long strides as he carried Hitomi towards her rooms. "Will she be all right?"

"I'm no healer, but she should be fine. Grief's like that, and overwhelming at times."

"I remember," she murmured, thinking back to that first year after she lost her family.

He shot her an inscrutable expression and adjusted his grip on the woman in his arms. Hitomi was sobbing against his shoulder, a wet stain spreading on the thin fabric of his shirt.

"Should I get Lord Van?"

Sir Francis shook his head. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and he impatiently swiped at it, jostling Hitomi a bit in the process. "He's in the meeting with Asturia. It's too important for him to postpone. I need to get there myself, as soon as we get the Seer to her room."

She narrowed her eyes. "What is more important to Lord Van than Hitomi?"

He stared straight ahead, his expression blank as he spoke. "War, Lady Merle, or at least the possibility of it."

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Dryden Fassa, prince consort of Asturia, placed the sheet of paper he had been studying back on the sizable stack in front of him and said, "Well Fanelia, it seems you have a strong case against Cesario, but what exactly does that have to do with Asturia?"

Van and Sir Mikael exchanged glances before the Principle Secretary spoke.. "We believe that Cesario is also planning to invade Asturia, once it has Fanelia."

"Van?" Millerna asked, seeking confirmation.

He nodded. "We have no solid proof, just speculation, but Cesario wants Fanelia for something, and we believe it can only be for our food source. Cesario is not starving."

"The only reason to need so much food is to fuel an army," Dryden said, nodding in understanding. "But why Asturia?"

"Like I said, we don't have any proof, but I believe that Cesario wants Asturia's wealth and potential. If he had it, no country on Gaea could stand up to him."

"We can't deploy our army on speculation."

"I understand. I just wanted you to be aware that there was a possibility. Have your people keep their eyes on Arnulf."

"How are your defenses, Fanelia?"

A muscle in Van's jaw visibly tightened, but he kept his voice calm. "They are poor. We have little extra money for training, and a large amount of gidaru had recently come missing from our treasury."

Dryden furrowed his brow. "Mismanagement?"

"Hardly."

Millerna leaned forward, her fingers laced together. "Asturia is prepared to offer you the use of 10,000 men, provided Fanelia signs a formal trade agreement declaring that a percentage of your export crops are sold to Asturia. How much are currently sold to us?"

Sir Mikael shuffled some papers and located the figure. "Last quarter 39 percent of the crown's export was purchased by Asturia. The figure is higher if we count the trade from private estates."

"So let's say that Fanelia agrees that 35 percent of what the crown produces will be sold to Asturia for fair-market pricing. Asturia will provide the manpower to guard the investment." Dryden sat back, pleased with his wife's plan. No one could argue against Asturia lending a hand to a nation with which they had a trade treaty.

Van let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The proposal was infinitely fair and would be unlikely to antagonize any of the countries Asturia had alliances with. He would get much needed manpower, and Asturia, from Fanelia's borders, could keep an eye on Cesario. It also gave much-welcomed assurances that Fanelia would be able to rebuild its treasury through the sale of the crown's crops. "Fanelia accepts Asturia's terms. Roth will work with the your secretary to draw up the contracts."

The door to the room opened, and all heads swiveled to see Sir Francis slip in. Van's eyes narrowed slightly as he waited for the man to seat himself. "Explain," he said shortly.

"I apologize, Lord Van, for my lateness. As I was returning from meeting with a source, there was a situation that demanded my attention. I came as quickly as I could."

"What situation?"

Sir Francis paused. "The Seer had been overextending herself, I believe."

Van blanched, and half-rose from his chair before he remembered where he was. "Is she all right? What happened?"

"She's fine. She's sleeping, and the Lady Merle is with her."

"Poor Hitomi," Millerna murmured. "She looked fine this morning, then she ran out all of a sudden. She'd gone pale. She might have taken ill. I'll check on her when we're done here."

"Thank you, Millerna," Van said, trying to mask his anxiety. She smiled reassuringly and patted his hand.

He turned the meeting back to matters of the Crown, but his attention was divided, and he had the unsettling feeling that Millerna had seen right through him.

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Millerna placed the stethoscope back in her bag and turned to the group lining the walls of the room. Van looked so worried that she couldn't help but give him a reassuring smile. "She's fine."

Van's sigh of relief was so audible that Hitomi, sitting up in bed, her arms folded firmly across her chest, frowned.

"So I _said_, but no one believed me." Her pointed glare made it clear that _no one_ meant _Van_.

Millerna hid a smile and threaded her arm through Merle's. "I'm famished. Let's go get some food and allow Hitomi more rest." One by one, the other occupants in the room followed her direction, filing through the doors, until only Hitomi, in the bed, and Van, still standing against the wall, remained.

He'd forgotten how fierce her temper could be. She looked so much like a petulant child that he wanted to hold her tight until she smiled again. To keep from reaching out and doing just that, he linked his fingers together in front of him and resisted the urge to step closer. He said nothing, only waited, knowing she would talk to him when she was ready.

For several minutes, she didn't speak. The bedclothes rustled as she repositioned herself, settling back against the high stack of pillows. Bird song drifted in through the open shutters, and a burst of high, girlish giggling from a couple of courtiers as they passed through the gardens by the window. She moved slightly and finally answered his unspoken question.

"I don't know what happened. Merle was showing me some book, but I couldn't read it, and I just.." She trailed off and shrugged.

"It was finally too much," he guessed, his voice neutral, as if he were commenting on the weather and not her mental health.

"Perhaps," she agreed quietly, staring down at her fingernails. They were perfectly manicured, short but neatly trimmed and filed to a gentle oval.

It seemed wrong, somehow, that her nails were so feminine. They didn't fit her personality. Those hands should be calloused and dirt-smudged, busy instead of idle, searching out and cataloging wonderful things from her world's past. The discord between _what should have been_ and _what was_, as represented by Hitomi's graceful, capable hands, struck him almost painfully, even as something seemed out of place.

"You shouldn't be here," he murmured as the realization twisted his gut, and unconsciously his threaded fingers clenched tight, his knuckles turning white. "You weren't meant to be here."

"Van?" The expression of hurt and rejection in her green eyes as she puzzled over his words was almost his undoing.

"I didn't mean... It's not that I don't want you here, Hitomi. But this isn't really your home, is it?" _ No matter how much I may wish it, _the thought tormented him.

He was the most powerful man in his kingdom. One word from him could arrange almost anything he wished. And yet, the one thing he wanted above all others wasn't in his power. The irony of it all wasn't lost on him, but he was in no mood to appreciate it.

She averted her gaze and spoke quietly. "No, I suppose it isn't."

She was staring at her hands again, those stranger's hands on Hitomi's body, and the nagging feeling returned in force. He abruptly realized, as he watched her right thumb rub her left ring finger, that the familiar glint of gold was missing.

"You've removed your wedding ring," he stated woodenly, as his mind raced backwards. She'd been wearing it this morning at breakfast, surely. Which meant...

"It was time," she replied, the tone almost belligerent as if she were daring him to argue.

She was moving on, again, without him. He kept his back straight as he walked out without another word, and only when he was finally alone, an hour later, did he allow his shoulders to sag in defeat.

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She watched him leave, his easy gait gone as he moved as stiffly as a marionette, and wondered what in the hell had happened. Did he want her to leave? She'd thought they'd gotten past all the awkwardness. And what was that bit about her having taken off Jason's ring?

The thought came unbidden, and it made her gasp out loud. Did he think that she was going to try to break up his marriage now that she was moving past her husband's death? Was that what changed his attitude towards her?

No, it couldn't be. Van's thoughts surely wouldn't run in that direction. He was her precious friend; they had a bond that transcended the ordinary, and just because she realized she was still attracted to him... that didn't mean anything. Anything at all, to either of them.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet meeting the smooth wood of the floor, and suddenly-

everything twisted around her and went black-

as she fell headlong into the first vision she'd had since her husband had died.

_The man was thick around the waist, with bright coppery hair and a cruel face. He was studying a scroll intently when soft footsteps interrupted him._

"_What do you want, girl?" he barked, hastily re-rolling the paper._

_Queen Sophie walked slowly through the doorway. "Good afternoon, Lord Father. I've come to petition you for an extended stay, by two weeks. The plans are taking longer than expected, and it would be foolhardy to return to Fanelia while meetings were still to be had."_

_He considered the woman, then nodded once shortly. "Very well. By two weeks only, and this time, I expect to see results. Van Fanel had better be dead before the next month is out."_

_Sophie smiled thinly. "It will be as you wish, Father." She bowed and left the room through the same doorway she had entered._

_When he was certain she was gone, Arnulf unrolled the scroll he had been reading once more, and smiled. Hitomi knew with dreaded certainty what was on that paper. It wasn't Fanelia, or Asturia, or any of the other independent countries on Gaea. The world Arnulf wanted to conquer wasn't his home._

_It was Earth. The Mystic Moon. Hitomi's home._


	10. Chapter 10

Yet another meeting, yet another room, and Van had a headache that felt like a land dragon was dancing inside his skull. He tried, surreptitiously, to lean forward and massage his temples, but he straightened when Sir Mikael shot him a concerned glance. "I'm fine," he muttered, doing his best to cover the fact that he was anything but.

Sir Francis raised one sardonic eyebrow but wisely said nothing.

Sir Mikael propped his elbows on the smooth wood of the table, his brow furrowing slightly as he mentally ticked off names. "I believe the majority of the Council will vote against the Queen on this, Lord Van, if you request that it be pushed through. The marriage was arranged to provide heirs to the kingdom, and she has not provided."

"Being barren isn't reason enough to execute someone for treason," Van snapped, feeling the tenuous grip on his self-control slip.

"Of course not, Lord Van. Assuming, of course, that she really is barren." Sir Francis' gravelly voice put words to what had been whispered, for years, among the palace servants and people of Fanelia.

"I've done my duty, as has she."

"No one is saying otherwise," Sir Mikael hastened to inject diplomatically, "but there are ways a woman has at her disposal, to...ah..."

"Prevent a child. I know." This time, Van allowed himself to sag a little, letting his head lean forward and his eyes drop closed. So weary... He felt like he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in the eleven years he'd been married to Sophie.

And now, the Council that had insisted he marry her wanted to try her for treason on the grounds that no children had been produced.

"I can't allow it. I can't have her killed over something that might be of no fault of her own."

"Lord Van, you know it's more than this. She means to have you killed."

"We still have no proof. How can I be a fair ruler if I allow someone to be tried and executed on nothing more than suspicion?"

"But her father-"

"Is not his daughter, and it's the daughter to whom I am married."

"Lord Van," Sir Francis spoke gently, "are you really happy married to the Queen? Wouldn't you prefer the freedom to choose a wife you love?"

Van thought of Hitomi, of her wide smile and honey colored hair, her green eyes and big heart. Who wouldn't want to choose her? How could the thought of waking up to her every morning not tempt him?

But what he would lose, that part of himself that strove for kindness and decency, could not be worth the gain of even Hitomi as a wife. He thought of the disappointment he would see on her face if she knew the truth of what they were asking him to do. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he made such a choice, and he knew Hitomi would never accept it either.

"Find proof," he stated, rubbing his hands over his face. "If she is really trying to kill me, which I have no doubt, if she is really preventing herself from carrying an heir, just... find the proof. Please."

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Hitomi charged through the corridors of the palace, blinded to the servants who were leaping out of her path, cognizant only of her need to _get out, get out NOW_ and nothing more.

In her first fragile days back on Gaea, she had tried multiple times to return home, not because she had a great life to return to, but if she was going to continue living, she felt she should at least do it on the same planet as Jason's grave. Those early attempts had all ended with her sprawled on the ground, sobbing dejectedly, and finally she had to concede defeat. She was on Gaea for now, and it seemed best to accept it and move forward. However, with the vision repeating itself behind her panicked eyes, the only thing she could think to do was flee into the safety of the forest and try once more to return to the Earth.

Her tooled leather sandals pounded down the hallway and her breath came in large shuddering gasps. She crashed through the doorway leading to the grounds, shoving the door with enough force to crack the hinges before bolting for the shaded sanctuary of the forest.

Upon reaching the nearest clearing, she jerked the energist shard pendant from beneath her blouse and gripped it fiercely. "Please! I want to go home. Please let me go home!" she called out to the sky, her distress so great that she failed to notice the arrival of several men who had been in pursuit of the fleeing Seer.

Van's blood ran cold as Hitomi's anguished plea rang out, startling several nearby birds into flight. How he envied them their retreat, wishing he could fly away too rather than face the woman he loved. He signaled the guards who had come with him and they slipped discretely away, leaving him alone with the woman who was now on her knees, her chest heaving with exertion as she cried out to whomever might be listening. His heart ached with her shared grief and he approached her quietly, placing his hand firmly on her shoulder but making no other move to touch her as her pain poured forth.

After what seemed like an eternity, she quieted, leaning tiredly against his leg as he remained standing, his grip on her shoulder the only other point of contact between them. His thigh burned where her cheek pressed against it. Once he could be sure she was herself again, his grip lessened, although he did not remove his hand. The silence between them stretched out to a fine point, and finally he spoke just to clear the air.

"You know, if you wanted them, I could get you some 'damned ruby slippers', although I'm unsure how they could help you return home."

She gave a hiccuping laugh and fluttered her hand around vaguely. "Pop culture reference. I don't really need ruby slippers."

"I see," he replied, although he was more confused than ever. What did she mean by 'pop'?

"From a movie."

"Ah."

"I just... never mind."

"Ah," he repeated, for lack of anything more meaningful, and started to move away when she grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly in her small one.

"I made you a promise," she stated urgently, and it took him a moment before he realized what she was speaking about.

"You've had a vision?"

She nodded and finally looked up at him. Her eyes were wide and haunted, and her face wan. He wanted to comfort her until her color returned and the shadows fled her eyes. Since he couldn't, _shouldn't_, he shoved his free hand into his pocket and squared his shoulders.

"Tell me," he ordered curtly.

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"The Mystic Moon," the two men repeated in unison, only Sir Francis' response was considering while Sir Mikael's was exclaimed incredulously.

Hitomi nodded miserably, staring down at the scarred table of the Privy Council chamber rather than watch the reactions of the hastily-assembled party.

"It makes sense if you think about it," Dryden ruminated, cutting his gaze over to his wife, who was hovering worriedly at Hitomi's shoulder.

Allen's brow furrowed as he pondered the king's words. "How so?"

"Zaibach became powerful through the use of Mystic Moon technology and the power of Atlantis. The sources of both of those lie in Hitomi's world." The Asturian replied astutely, pushing his glasses back in place with one hand.

"If Cesario gains that kind of power, he'll be unstoppable," Merle murmured as she laced her fingers together tightly, tension radiating off the cat-woman in waves. Her tail flicked from side to side, clearly exhibiting her agitation.

"So if he wants the Mystic Moon, then why is he after Fanelia?" Millerna questioned, frowning slightly as she ran through the possibilities, each more preposterous than the last.

Van spoke up for the first time since calling everyone together, and his words caused all eyes to shift his way. "He wants Escaflowne. He needs a way to get to the Mystic Moon."

"Escaflowne!"

"It's been deactivated since the war. Surely not!"

"Van's right," the knight's voice cut through the protests. "The Alseides' propulsion system isn't powerful enough to allow one to reach the Mystic Moon. The Tierings and Oreides were destroyed during the war, as was Chafaris, and Scherazade can't fly. Escaflowne is the only guymelef that can make the journey."

The room fell quiet as everyone assembled allowed for the truth of the statement. To mutual surprise, the uneasy silence was broken by Hitomi, who hadn't spoken once her story was finished. "Well, if it's Escaflowne he wants, we'll just have to make sure he doesn't get it," she intoned grimly, determination squaring her jaw and flashing in her eyes. "Merle?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to need your help."

"Sure, Hitomi, but with what?"

"I'm going to need the library."

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The next day found the women surrounded with piles of books, scrolls of parchment, and even several boxes of carefully stacked woodcuts. Hitomi's hair had been piled haphazardly on top of her hair, and there was a pencil shoved through the knot. Merle's diminutive form had been hidden several times by the large stacks, and only by following the sound of her voice, or on one occasion, the chain of sneezes, was Hitomi able to find her.

"I really need to start with that tutor," the Seer grumbled a bit as she leafed through a particularly dusty tome, searching the line drawings for clues.

Merle's slightly muffled voice drifted over from a pile of scrolls. "Working on it. I've asked Sir Francis to suggest someone."

"Is that so? Then I'm definitely sure he'll pick the best person for the job." She turned another page and frowned at the jumble of illegible words. Even if she could read the language, deciphering the scribe's handwriting would be another matter entirely.

Merle's slightly cocked head popped up from behind a skyscraper of materials. "What do you mean by that?"

Hitomi smiled and studied her friend. Was that a slight flush in her cheeks? "Nothing really, just that Sir Francis seems to take special care when the request comes from you."

"I don't know what you mean. Anyway, there's nothing about Draconians here in any of these."

Yes, Merle was definitely blushing. Hitomi allowed her the change of subject. "I didn't suppose there would be, but there's lots of other things we'll need to research. Anything at all about Atlantis, the energists, or even Zaibach technology would be helpful."

"Energists? But they're from our world, not yours."

"Well, there are no dragons on Earth now, but somehow, at least one dragon and one energist found its way there, that we know of. And this energist on my pendant couldn't have been there for long. It wasn't completely covered with sediment, which it should have been due to the currents, unless it came to be there recently."

"How recent?" Merle stretched and arched her back to work out a kink.

She shrugged and chewed on her bottom lip, considering. "Maybe a day or two. It's impossible to know for certain without knowing the precise current patterns. One of the guys on my team was a whiz at that sort of thing. I wish I had spoken to him about it, but everything happened so quickly that I just... didn't."

They fell back into silence for a time. Merle had written down some of the keywords for Hitomi to look for, and she was engrossed in scanning one of the documents when she was startled by the sound of a heavy book being slammed shut.

"That's it! I can't take it anymore. Hitomi, we've been at this all day and most of yesterday. Can't we have a break? My eyes are starting to cross." Merle demonstrated and Hitomi bit back a laugh.

"Sure. Let's go stretch our legs and have some tea."

The tea, and then the long walk to make up for sitting all day, carried them through until time for the evening meal. With the queen and her courtiers absent, meals were a much more informal affair, and Hitomi only took the time to wash her face and hands and change into a dress that wasn't covered in library dust before joining the others in the large dining hall.

There was an empty seat between Dryden and Sir Guy, Van's treasurer, with whom she had had little occasion to speak. She greeted him politely as she waited her the servants to approach their end of the long table. Sir Guy was cordial, but he appeared distracted, so rather than impose on his time she turned to Dryden and soon the pair were chatting like the old friends they were. As dinner drew the a close, the Asturian king asked Hitomi if she'd do him the pleasure of taking a turn in the garden. She agreed and soon found herself walking arm in arm with him around Van's impressive grounds.

They walked silently, each lost in their own thoughts, only speaking occasionally to admire a particularly beautiful flower or masterful hedge design, when Dryden said, out of the blue, "It doesn't make any sense."

Hitomi turned to face him, the fading light of the day creating strong shadows over half of his profile. "What's that?"

He didn't immediately answer; instead, he stood scanning the horizon with a thoughtful frown. "We have a name for the time of day that's approaching. It's called the blue hour, the time of evening when secrets are best hidden and very rarely revealed."

"L'heure bleue," Hitomi whispered, wondering where she'd heard the phrase before.

Dryden's head tilted to the side, and she wondered if he could understand the language she had just spoken. "It's not the best time for trying to get to the bottom of a mystery." He took something from his pocket and placed it in her hand. "But we'll try anyway."

She looked down at the folded piece of paper he had given her before she opened it. Staring down at the now-familiar jumble of characters that seemed to be the Gaean written language, she frowned. "Dryden, you know I can't read this. What does it say?"

He waved off her question as unimportant. "That doesn't matter. Who wrote it, now that's what you need to be asking."

"Well?" She frowned, irritated by his lack of forthcoming, wondering what in the world he was getting at.

"You did, Hitomi, when you were here last."

"That's impossible! How could I write in a language I can't even read?"

He gazed at her steadily, all traces of the easy-going smirk wiped from his features. "You can't read it _now_. I'm quite certain you could when you were here before."

She sat down heavily on the closest bench, the crumpled paper still in her hand. Although the remaining light was rapidly fading, leaving the world around her a rich blue, she tried once again to read the alien characters on the page, but they stubbornly defied understanding, and then it was too dark to read anything at all. She swallowed hard around the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Dryden, what does this mean?"

"I wish I could tell you. But I wonder... how much longer will you be able to speak our language?"

The lump in her throat was joined by a tightening in her chest as she contemplated a world without being able to speak with Van, a world in which she could not speak nor be spoken to with any level of comprehension, a world which she did not know how to leave while a madman was threatening everything she held dear.

"I'm not going to let it happen," she murmured, her hands tightening into fists, crushing the aged paper. "I'm not giving up. I'm not!" She leaped to her feet and started hurrying back to the palace.

"Where are you going?" Dryden's voice broke through the darkness surrounding them, and she halted long enough to call back to him.

"I'm going to talk to Van."


End file.
